The Story of You and Me
by djFusion
Summary: [COMPLETE] Nothing in life can ever prepare you for that one moment that will change everything about your world forever. An epic story written from the alternating POV of Goten and Trunks as they come to terms with their unusual and evolving friendship.
1. PART ONE

_***Author's Note:** The prequel to this story is my one-shot fic, _**Gravity's Angles,**_ which can be found on my bio page. It is not required that you read it prior to this, but it might help later on. Also, I'd like to announce that this will be the last fanfic I write. I'm retiring from writing after this one and will go back to just being an everyday Dragonball Z fanfic reader again. I'd just like to thank everyone who's supported me and stuck with me through this past year, and I will be eternally thankful for your time with my dorky little fics ^_^ And I'd especially like to thank my best bud (and super beta), Kinomi - for if it wasn't for her, I'd have lost all interest in DBZ a long time ago. "Thanks for the inspiration!"_

_And lastly, even though I think it goes without saying, since the last four episodes of Dragonball Z and all of GT suck so fucking bad, I have decided NOT to include them in the canon of this fic. Period._

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**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion   
  


_A story about learning that life sometimes has a different plan for you than the one you intended to take,_   
_and that the end of one part of your life only means the beginning of something new..._   


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**~** PART ONE** ~**

  
  
  
  
  


Thick, iron beams flex and groan around the stressing walls of the Gravity Simulator. It's been hours since the old room has gotten any slack in pressure, and the age of this worn metal is starting to show in comparison to us inside of it. Before any more bolts and screws are turned into useless pieces of cracked steel, I throw the power switch and the steady hum of the compressors slowly grind to a halt. Gravity back to normal. 

I slide my back down the side of the control panel, leaving a trail of smeared sweat behind me on the wall, and with a heavy release of my knees, I wrap my arms loosely around my legs, trying my hardest to control my breath from giving away my level of total exhaustion. 

"Let's... call this a day... huh?... I've... got nothing left... what about you?" I force out with a chest heaving in deep intakes of the moist, hot air in the room. 

My counterpart turns his focus away from the ceiling to face me, making every attempt to move as little as possible to do so. He just smiles back, knowing that there's no need for an actual response. 

"I don't think I can move if I tried. Tell your mom she's gonna have to bring dinner out here for me tonight," he cracks, wiping the palm of his hand across his face and through his hair, soaked of sweat and dripping on the floor. 

After five intense hours of training at over two hundred times gravity, it's no surprise we're were both completely drained, despite knowing that we probably wouldn't have stopped otherwise. That's the way it's always been with us - Constant competition to see who can last the longest. 

"You know, I haven't felt this much of a difference since we trained in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber," he half laughs, pausing a moment before sitting back on his elbows. Smiling from ear to ear, he lowers his voice as if he was about to give up a military secret. "I think we should try it." 

"Now?! I'm way too-" 

"Come on, Trunks! We've got to be the same level now! I want to see if we can still do it, don't you? Aren't you curious?" he pleads, obviously forgetting about his total current lack of energy from a day's worth of exerting it non-stop. He sits up completely and bends over his knees, leaning forward to near mimic the position I'm in. He straightens his smile, careful not to look so excited about it, even though I know he is. Goten hasn't changed one bit in that aspect since my first memory of being with him, all though I can't say as much about other things. 

Ever since he got the idea to try to fuse again, Goten's been determined to push himself - enough so that our power levels would naturally align this time without me holding back. He's been almost obsessed about it - proving to have more determination that even his father with this lately, even though I could personally care less if I have to hold back or not. I think it's more that he's trying to prove something to me. 

It's been about seven years since the last time we performed the Fusion Technique together, but it's only because there hasn't really been a need for it. Ever since Majin Buu's destruction, the Earth's peace hasn't meet any threats that normal human defenses couldn't handle, so going through the hassle of practicing it all the time simply got pushed aside. Yea, I know, I know - It's a sacred Metamoru ritual we perform, and we're the only two non-Metamorians to ever do it... but once you do it a couple hundred times, the fun of it _does_ wear off. Especially for two half-Saiyans with way too much energy on their hands like we had. We were both home schooled as kids, so after plowing through the books as fast as we could, we had nothing but the rest of the day to find any kind of trouble we could get our hands into. 

Let's just say: Thank Dende for the understanding mothers we have. 

So, long story short, somewhere along the way, we kinda sorta forgot how to do the Fusion Dance. We didn't even notice until Goten said something about it a few weeks ago, and I know as well as Goten does that if his father found out, he would be beyond disappointed with us for not keeping it up over the years. We can't exactly just ask him how to do it again - if he even remembers how. 

So for the past few weeks, we've been in here, taking it upon ourselves to remember it piece by piece until we can do it again. Nothing but training and sparring around the clock, fusion has been the only thing on our minds for days. We have barely talked about anything else. 

"You know..." I grunt out as I push myself back up the side of the wall. "Your energy is as much shot as mine is right now. What the fuck makes you think we cou-" I'm cut short by a familiar scream from the other side of the door. 

"_Trunks Briefs! What did I tell you about using that kind of language in this house again, young man_?!" my mom shouts through the metal walls. Her ever-present hearing never misses anything, especially when it comes to my so-called 'filthy adolescent mouth'. I don't care how strong I am for a fifteen-year-old, Even _I_ fear the power of my mother. Sometimes even more than my father. 

Fortunately, Goten can easily relate to the situation here. His mom is ten times worse than my mom has ever been. I've been at that house too many times to see her rip into her sons like she's on a war path. At least the worst I get is being sent to my room, which doesn't usually last for more than ten minutes anyway. Chi Chi brings out the frying pan. 

"I'm sorry m-mom, it won't happen again." Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Goten biting down on the inside of his lip, forcing down the smirk he wants to make at the new crack in my voice again. Just great. 

Pulling his tired body off the floor of the Simulator, he walks over to the door and pulls the safety open, releasing the pillow of steam with a loud hiss as the room depressurizies. One expected blue haired, over protective mother is already tapping her foot on the other side, arms folded in usual fashion for when the bitching is directed towards one of us. 

Look out - No Bullshit Mode: straight ahead. 

"Perhaps you boys would like to fend for dinner yourselves tonight?_ Hmmm_? You should, considering all of the damage that you two have been causing to this machine! I heard the damn thing busting apart from the second floor, and you _know_ your father won't tolerate training without it while it gets fixed!" she yells straight at Goten, knowing if something went wrong, he was just as much to blame as me, and vice versa - it's always been that way. But I laugh anyway at the fact he's getting more of the blunt end of it than I am right now. 

"No more! Get out!" she orders, yanking us through the door by the collar of our sweat drenched shirts, slamming it behind us and turning off the external main power switch. "Effective immediately: the Gravity Simulator is officially in need of repair. I am not about to build a new one if you two demolish this one, got it?" she scolds, subliminally reminding us of the countless times in the past we've 'accidentally' broken something expensive. She doesn't even wait for a nod indicating that we understand, already heading for the kitchen to order the dinner I'm not entirely sure we're still getting. 

She's far out of ear-shot before Goten finally says something. "Wow Trunks! You're mom's pretty pissed!" 

"You got that right... but keep your guard up during dinner, huh?" I whisper over to him, exchanging a mischievous grin with my other half. Even after a lifetime of each other's constant companionship, the excitement of our next challenge has yet to become boring. 

I lean in closer, confirming the plan, "We'll fuse tomorrow!"   
  
  
  


For the past week and a half, Goten has been staying at Capsule Corporation so we can concentrate on training as much as physically possible, much to the displeasure of his mother and enthusiastic encouragement of his father. Chi Chi never fully appreciated the fact that Goten had become so close with 'Vegeta's boy', and continued to insist that I was corrupting her youngest son into something he wasn't - bringing out a violent side that she tried so desperately hard to suppress like she did with Gohan. Goten, however, never had the book smarts that Gohan did, despite his mother's constant attempts to shove his nose in one as a kid. Gohan was never really a fighter either. Goten is. 

It was Goku who finally convinced his wife to allow their son to train again, insisting that it was only healthy for him to release some of the Saiyan instincts in him through fighting with another who could understand him. Goten's too much like his father to sit around at home and be content with chores and books everyday like his older brother has grown accustomed to, and I think Goku's just using his son's sudden interest to become stronger as a chance to give Goten an opportunity to mature as a fighter on his own. From growing up without the careful guidance he apparently gave Gohan as a kid, Goten's fighting style has become alot different than his father's, and I think Goku knows that letting his son train with me is the best way for him to develop it. I am, after all, a big part of where it comes from. 

So, for the past ten days, Goten's been making himself comfortable in one of the many guest rooms at Capsule Corporation, even though the amount of time he spends here no longer really qualifies him as an actual guest anymore. My mom gave him the bedroom across the hall from mine years ago, and it's been Goten's room ever since. Even if he hasn't spent the night in it for a long time. 

It will always be his room. 

I _am_ actually excited about finally getting to fuse again, too. But for some reason, this time around seems like a lot bigger of a deal then the last time we did it. Maybe, as little kids, we couldn't fully understand the reality of what it meant to join bodies. There's so much about it that I've forgotten - like what it feels like exactly for that split second you feel your body melting into a new one. To feel that hot rip of power coarse through your veins, feeling Goten's energy slide into mine... I _know_ it will be even wilder this time around considering how strong we've become. 

Even as we keep silent about it during dinner like agreed, I can't stop thinking about it. Memories of Majin Buu and training with Goten in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber... there was a different driving force for our intense training back then, and I guess we've gone through a lot together when I sit back and think about it all. I was only eight years old when all that shit happened, but even when we were in the Other World, I was never really freaked out about it. We were with each other for everything, and he was the one that made me strong when I wanted to be scared out of my mind. I'm sure he'd say the same about me. 

But now, there's something different about us. More like for the past two years. We act almost... formal around each other, like we're trying to pretend we're something we're not. And we don't talk about everything like we used to, but mostly because 'everything' includes alot more nowadays. There isn't anymore of the rough-and-tumble fooling around or physical closeness between us, which probably goes along with why I stopped spending the night at his house too, come to think about it. It just didn't feel right to be sleeping in the same bed together anymore now that we're older, but it makes me wonder if we'll just keep growing farther and farther apart as time goes on. 

It's thoughts like these that keep me awake when I should be trying to sleep. 

"Goten?" I whisper, lightly knocking on his door. "Goten? Are you awake in there?" Trying not wake the rest of the house, I gently turn the knob and creak the door open slightly to peek in. I had heard some sounds coming from Goten's room on the way back from the bathroom, and I'm curious to why he would be up at one in the morning after insisting that we go to bed early to get enough rest for tomorrow. Maybe we could talk or something. "Chibi..." 

I carefully open the door and look inside to find Goten lying on the bed with his back facing me, softly purring with his face pressed in the pillow. His body is tensed - kind of flinching - but he's _definitely_ not asleep right now. No way will I let such a perfect opportunity to scare him pass me by. 

I walk up to the side of the bed and kneel down to get just inches from his face. It's completely obvious what's happening now since I can plainly see a hand grabbing a fistful of sheets, and the other flexing and lost somewhere down between his boxer shorts and Dende-knows-where. 

This is too easy. 

I make no attempt to speak softly and get right in his ear. "Thinkin' about me again?" I whisper through a wide smile, startling him with a sharp gasp. It makes me almost feel bad about ruining whatever nice little thought he was having. 

He's mortified. Once over the initial shock, he scrambles over the bed to cover himself, whether subconscious or not, and sharply glares back up at me. Sitting up with his knees to his chest, he balls up the sheets in his lap and his eyes tell me that he would throw me out the window if it were safe to stand up. 

I smile at his expense. "Hey, I don't care what you do, Goten. I knew you'd catch up sometime," I try to joke as I ruffle his chaotic mess of bed head hair, all though I think that came out more condescending then I intended it to. I keep forgetting not to throw our age difference in his face all the time anymore. 

I cross my arms and step back, stifling a laugh under my breath at the shade of blush red Goten's face is turning from catching him in the act. 

"_Get out_." 

"Hey, I'm just fooling around. Don't be so sensitive about it - It's not like it's a bad thing..." I assure him, temporarily easing the rising anger directed right at me. I know I'm embarrassing him to no end and I really should leave him alone about this... but not without one more jab. "Besides, I'd rather you do it now instead of in the middle of sparring tomorrow." 

"Shut up and GET OUT!" he snaps, jumping off the bed to push me out the door, still covering himself with the sheets held tightly to his lower half. Once on the other side, I hear the click of the lock indicating that perhaps I've stepped over a line... again. I don't think Goten has _ever _locked the door to his room in all the times he's slept over here, and I'm not sure if I regret doing what I just did. 

This is new territory between us now. We're not little kids anymore, and I'm not quite sure how Goten acts about stuff like this yet. Mostly though, I don't know how he'll react about my teasing about it. I wish I would think twice before I do shit sometimes, but it's hard to take things seriously with him. 

But, if anyone knows Goten, it's me. And I seriously doubt he'll even care. After all, my best friend is exactly like me. 

_Right_?   


  


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My best friend is a jerk. 

But I should be used to things like this from Trunks by now, I suppose. I've known him forever and he hasn't changed at all from when we were kids. At least not when it comes to making me look like a baby. I swear, sometimes he treats me like I'm still seven years old! I know I'm a year younger than he is, but he's not that much more mature than me so that he has to act like he knows it all. 

But despite my little humiliating encounter, I'm determined to not act like this bothers me. I mean, it does bother me, but not enough to get all bent out of shape over it. It's my own stupid fault for not locking the door anyway, and I suppose I've dealt with worse from him before. 

He's just lucky we're best friends.   
  
  


I am still excited about today, though. I was barely able to sleep at all last night, and I think I woke up even earlier this morning than Vegeta usually does. Even after my shower, the clock on the night stand still only reads 5:05am. Well, I guess I can at least use this as a chance to warm-up by myself, and stretch out and stuff for later. 

I make my way downstairs to help myself to some breakfast, and stop just outside the kitchen once I hear the clang of a frying pan hitting the stove. Who the hell is up at this hour? 

With a careful peer around the corner, I can see the kitchen table already set up with two plates, a carton of orange juice and a mess of fresh fruit piled up in a large bowl. The smell of freshly made pancakes being made is almost too much to resist. Never once in the hundreds of times that I've slept over here has Bulma made breakfast for us before training. She must feel really bad for yelling at us about the Gravity Simulator incident yesterday. 

I go straight for a piece of fruit and start to thank her as I polish off an apple on my training gi. "Hey, thanks Bulma! Breakfast smells gr-..." 

The sight out of the corner of my eye isn't what I thought I'd see. 

"Nice of you to finally get your ass up. But I figured you wouldn't be getting much sleep anyway," he taunts, flipping over the last pancake onto the stack next to the stove. His short lavender hair is held back away from his face with that black tie he wears when he wants it out of his eyes, which means he's going to be all business about training today. It's still a little damp from his shower, which means he was probably up and ready even before I was! 

I'm still frozen as Trunks carries the steaming hot plate of pancakes past me and sets them down on the table. Wait... since when could Trunks cook? 

"How..." 

"How'd I learn how to cook?" he finishes for me. "I don't know, I guess it just sort of came to me in my sleep," he cracks, smiling wide at what he's obviously making fun of. So much that slight chance he'd forget about it. 

"Damnit Trunks! Let it go, all right?!!" I bite out, trying to look as pissed off as possible. There goes my plan to act like it doesn't bother me, too. 

Trunks takes one look at me, and can surely see that flushing red color spreading over my cheekbones by now. I would like to think he knows I'm genuinely embarrassed about this and I just want him to drop it already. 

"Look, I'm just kidding, okay? But you don't have to be so embarrassed in front of me, Chibi. What ever you do, I do too, you know," he goes on. "I'm only a year older than you are." 

_Only_? Since when was it ever _only_. 

But Trunks is right - we are exactly the same, so teasing me about this should be no worse then being teased about everything else Trunks picks on me for. I hold back a pathetic smile, and still trying to look somewhat annoyed with my best friend's behavior. I've just grown too used to it to fight it off anymore. Regardless, I take the opportunity to change the subject. 

"Let's just eat breakfast and get going. If you made this, were probably going to need some time to recover from it, huh?" I smirk. 

Trunks lightly shoves me backwards, provoking what could have evolved into another kitchen destroying pushing match if I shoved him back. Instead, I ignore it and just bite into my apple, returning his smile that's still so familiar to me. 

Me and Trunks had been friends longer than I can remember, and it's been very clear from the start that nothing was more important then that.   
  
  


After breakfast and some quick sparring in the woods, we decide that we're finally ready to try it. I'm nervous as all hell. I know Trunks is too. We review the positions one last time and get into stance, mirroring each other in perfect symmetry, ready to do this after seven years passing since the last fusion. My power level is exactly on this time, and he didn't even have to hold back to match me! But this time, there is something more serious about us - maturity maybe? We actually understand the significance of what we're going to do, and I think it's become more than just a dance. 

As I stretch out my arms and look to him over my shoulder, I'm reminded that the blue eyes looking back at me are a lot different than last time we did this. I wonder if he's thinking the same about me? 

"You ready?" 

"Yeah!" 

"Let's do it." 

"**FUUUUUUUU....SION......_HAAAAAAAA_**!"   
  
  


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**:: please review ::**


	2. PART ONE continued

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion 

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**~ **PART ONE (continued) **~**

  
  
  


"So... H-how long... was that?!" 

I catch my breath and glance down to the watch I set on the ground near my shirt. _Fifty-seven minutes_...? That can't be right. "Trunks, I think we've been fused for almost an _hour_, but... I don't know how we did it." 

"I'm almost dead - that's how we did it. I can't even move," he breathes out in total monotone. 

"Yeah, but we're not supposed to be able to fuse for that long in the first place. Thirty minutes and that's it, _remember_?" There's more of a confusion in my voice than an explanation. "...I- I don't get it." 

He rolls over to his knees and stands on shaky legs, leading me to believe that he really _does_ have nothing left in him as he wipes the dirt off his pants in lazy brushes. Well, at least I'm not the only one so spent here. Peeling off his sweat soaked shirt, he throws it to hit the tree behind me and it hits with a wet smack. 

If that would have hit me, I'd have killed him. 

"Maybe it's because we're older, or something...I don't know? We didn't know how to really control our energy back then, Chibi," he thinks out loud to me. "Not like we do now, anyway." 

I run my hands through my hair as I listen to him try to come up with an explanation for all of this, and I'm reminded of how weird everything feels after you just split. Sometimes, I think I can still feel him inside of my body - like in my head - and my hair always seems to get this different texture to it for a little while, like it's trying to get softer and smoother like his. 

I wish I understood more of how fusion actually worked. I don't even think my dad really knows how or why it happens, even though he was the one who taught us back then. I'll probably never be able to explain it to anyone besides whoever was present for that first time at The Lookout, especially since sometimes I still get a little weirded out about it myself. 

When we were kids, it was different then it is now. All that we knew was that if we went through with the movements in the exact way we were supposed to, we'd be powerless to stop our bodies from blending together. The next thing we know, we were separate again and only had a spotty idea of what happened while we were together. Our memory _did_ get better the more we did it, but it was never completely controllable - at least not on my end of it. I don't know if it was the same for Trunks, but most of the time I felt like I was just along for the ride. 

"It felt good," I smile to him. He pauses a while before looking back to respond. 

"Yeah it did." 

I suggest the only thing on our minds at the moment since I know he can sense what I'm about to say. "We should try it again." 

Trunks rolls his eyes, even though I already know he was thinking the exact same thing before I said it. He walks over to where I'm sitting in the grass and offers out a hand, yanking me up with one jerk before wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "I think we should wait a little, huh?" 

I do suppose he's right. While we usually fuse at full strength, there _has_ been the occasional fusion when we probably should have waited to recover. We may be exhausted right now - especially since we were together for so long this time - but trying to do it again would surely be suicide. 

Two hours. Three tops. Then we'll go for round two.   
  
  


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I've always wondered why Goten's energy always seems to regenerate faster then mine after beating himself to a bloody pulp? Man, doesn't he exhaust himself anymore? He did as a kid, if I recall correctly, and I can distinctly remember several occasions where he's fallen asleep right in the middle of sparring with me and Gohan, or his dad. Fusion drains should be no different, but yet I can tell he's already getting antsy to try it again. Maybe he just needs a release for all that energy he has pent up - to calm him down. I know that's what _I_ could use about now. 

You know... maybe that's what _both_ of us could use right now. 

We ready ourselves and have another go at it with semi full energy. It's not like we need to be pushing our max now, so I'm sure this will be fine, but I remind myself that the first thing I'm going to do when I get home is take a nap. Goten's still a bundle of nerves, or energy or something. Who knows? Don't get me wrong, Goten _is_ the one who drives me to keep going with my training and to want to get better and stronger, but every now and then, I wish he was a little more laid back like I am. Maybe that's what my new goal should be for this summer - to focus him and help him to _chill the fuck out_. He can be such a space case sometimes. Just like his father. But, I _do_ have an idea... 

"Goten, don't go Super Saiyan this time - it takes too much out of me," I tell him. There's absolutely no way I'll still be functional afterwards if we do, and besides, I have better uses for that energy anyway. 

He gives me his trademark stare in return. I love it when he looks confused like this. "I thought _you_ were the one that wanted to power up last time. It wasn't-" 

"It doesn't matter, just... keep it low this time. Cool?" 

He nods back, mirroring the opening pose we've done so many times since the first. I hadn't even noticed until now that we haven't been needing to check our alignment anymore, but yet I can just tell we're on the same plane with each other. It reminds me of how we used to be _all_ the time. 

I get a little sad at the thought before focusing my mind back to the task at hand. 

"Okay - Round two!" 

"**FUUUUU....SION...._HAAAAAA_!**"   
  
  


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What the-... Why am I so out of breath? What happened? 

I look up to Trunks, standing besides me slumped with his back up against the tree. He's in the same condition as me, except the smile plastered across his face that's making him look drunk or half asleep or something. I know for certain that we we're fused _way_ longer than last time, but this... this isn't what it's supposed to feel like afterwards. This is different. I feel numb, and almost.. good? I can't explain it... 

"What did you think?" he whispers to me in labored breaths, like there's someone out here that's going to hear us. I don't react to the nudge of his knee against my shoulder that tries to get my reaction. "_That's_ what we should be doing with fusion, Chibi. _That_ was awesome!" 

_What_? 

I look down to my right hand and feel something sticky and wet between my fingers. I'd examine it closer, but I already know exactly what it is since it's on his right hand too, and the feeling in my groin is now starting to make sense. My hand slowly turns to a fist as I try to control myself from killing my best friend. 

To say I'm pissed right now would be putting it very lightly. 

"_Are you fucking nuts_?! How could you do something like this?!" I scream at him, stumbling over the roots of the tree I was sitting against and scrambling to my feet. "You're such an asshole, Trunks, you know that?!" 

"Hey, don't get mad at me! You could have stopped it if you didn't want to do it," he jokes, trying to make it seem like this isn't a big fucking deal. I can't stand it when he acts so smug about shit like this. "You're every bit a part of him as much as I am, you know. Are you going to tell me it didn't feel good?" 

I don't want to hear it. Careful not to touch my pants with my hand, I shove past him to wipe it off with something, anything. I actually plan on using his shirt, if I can find it. I feel mortified, but I'm not about to let him make me feel like a little kid again about this. My shoulders flex as I try to suppress my rising power level. 

"You know, you don't have to get all embarrassed," he adds. "We both know we do stuff like this anyway..." 

I don't even turn to face him before cutting him off. "That's completely different and you know it! I just... I don't want to discuss this with you, Trunks! _Is that okay with you_? Why can't you just drop it?!" I snap back, deliberately making it obvious to him that I'm using his tee-shirt as a towel for the mess. It seems that he doesn't even give a shit about that either! _Doesn't anything bother him?_

But he's quiet. No comeback? This isn't like him to not tease the life out of me. 

I throw his shirt down, trying to look all tough about this and stand my ground, but the expression on his face isn't the one I expected him to have. He looks disappointed. _At me_? Better not! I'm _not_ the one that's going to pretend that it's not totally fucked up that we just got off together in the same body, I don't care if he's my best friend or not! In fact, I think that makes it worse. 

He pauses a long time before defending himself. He doesn't even raise his voice. "We used to talk about everything together, Chibi. No secrets, remember?" It sounds like he wants to say more, but stops. "I'll just meet you back at the house." 

Without another word, he picks up the shirt I threw down and takes off for Capsule Corporation, leaving me alone in the empty field to dwell on what he's left me with.   
  
  


I know he's right. Things _aren't_ the same anymore. We've still been with each other constantly, but there are so many things we don't talk about now. At least I know that's how it is from my end of it. I've never felt embarrassed around him before. _Never_. We've always been so comfortable around each other, but things are different from when they were... I don't know, things are just more complicated now, I think. I know I can trust him with anything, but I feel... awkward talking to Trunks about some things. I don't want to be, but I am. 

Was it because we were so simple back then - just two half Saiyan kids that liked to fight? Besides food and learning new ki attacks, nothing really mattered to us back then. At least not before Majin Buu happened. I really can't imagine what my life would be like now if he hadn't been there for all that stuff with me. I'd probably be dead for one. The responsibility of having to save the world isn't something normal kids our age could possibly ever understand. 

But I want things to go back to the way they used to be between us - before he started going to high school in West City. Before he stopped sleeping over my house like he used to. Before girls became so interesting to us, even though we never talk about it. 

Before _our friendship_ got awkward.   
  
  


Since it's still the middle of the day, I touch down at the edge of West City and walk the rest of the way to Capsule Corporation instead. I'm still a little mad about what happened and still I'm not too sure I want to see him yet. I know I can't avoid it forever, but I just know Trunks will bother me about it during lunch, and dinner, and for the rest of my life, so no sense of stalling. I know him too well. 

Capsule Corporation is only a ten minute walk from the edge of town, but I have to consider that I'm slowing myself down significantly to seem as normal as I can around other people. That's why running or flying is _not _an option. I already get weird or surprising looks as it is, if not just for the fact that I don't exactly have the body of an average, human fourteen-year-old either. I forget that sometimes. I'm just around Trunks so much, I've never been aware of it. 

After an only six-and-a-half minute walk, I'm already at the front door of Capsule Corporation, but I don't dare go in - I've done this enough times to know that after sparring, there's no going through the main entrance. Ever! The last thing I need is Bulma down my throat for tracking mud and sweat through her living room rug again, so I head around to the back atrium entrance, carefully stepping through Mrs. Briefs' garden as a short cut. I keep extra careful to not squash any of her plants that fill the floor of the open sun room. Dende knows they've taken enough of a beating from me and Trunks over the years to deserve a little respect, at least now that we're not ripping up the house all the time anymore. 

"Oh, hello Goten, dear!" Busted by none other than the owner of the garden herself, even though Bulma's mom never gets mad at me. "Are you flattening my violets again, young man?" 

I turn on my most convincing I-wasn't-just-sneaking-though-your-plants-again look, and charm her over as best I can. That's turning out to be one of the more useful talents that I picked up on from Trunks over the years. 

"Oh, good afternoon, Mrs. Briefs! I knew you'd be out here so I didn't want to miss an opportunity to say hello." Perfect execution. 

"Oh, you're such a ladies man, aren't you?" she squeals, as I let her pinch my cheeks to sell the excuse. She's one of only two people in Trunks' entire family that isn't completely psychotic, and I'd like to keep her on my side. "Are you looking for Trunks? Because I think he's inside, dear." 

Sometimes I wonder why everyone automatically assumes that I'm looking for him, if he's not with me at the time. Were we once _that_ inseparable? 

I thank Mrs. Briefs for helping me out or for letting me off the hook - whichever - and head into the house to get some of the lunch that is surely prepared by now. That's definitely the one great perk about staying at Capsule Corporation: The kitchen staff! Even as much as I love my mom's cooking, she doesn't quite match up to the professional chefs here that will fix you anything you wantand_ as much as you want_ anytime of the day! I guess you kinda have to if you have Saiyans living under the roof... which makes me wonder how my mom did it by herself when there used to be _three_ of us living home at one time! It's just me and dad now, but before Gohan got married, mom would pretty much have to cook around the clock just to keep up with us. 

Suddenly, I don't feel bad for staying here so much - It gives her a break! And besides, I don't usually get a chance to be with Trunks this much anymore during the school year, but I think now it's that time we spend apart that's making things so strange between us lately. I want to be comfortable around him like I used to, and I don't want to be awkward anymore. 

I want us to be best friends again.   


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	3. PART ONE concluded

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion 

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**~** PART ONE (concluded) **~**

  
  
  
  


I've been subconsciously avoiding Goten all day. I'm actually starting to regret what happened this morning, and I think I might have made things worse then they already were after I caught him in the act last night. Even during dinner, I avoided eye contact with him at all costs, and I _know_ he's upset with me because of it. I think he feels uncomfortable being here now. He only started staying over my house because we were training for fusion again, but now that we finally did it, I'm starting to think he's just going to go back home. 

It worries me that we've become so detached like this. We haven't seen much of each other since we started going to high school. Hell, we don't even go to the _same_ high school, which doesn't make it any easier. I have a new group of friends now that take up most of my day, but I would drop any one of them in a second to hang out with Goten again the way we used to. I miss him more than anything. 

I used to feel so comfortable around him - I still do I think, but now there are things between us that we don't share with each other. Friends that aren't us. Memories that aren't ours. It didn't become so painfully obvious until after we fused today. I could see too many thoughts that weren't mine and it bothered me, but at least now I know why it did. 

When we we're kids - as far back as my memory even goes - Goten was never not a part of the picture. I grew up with him alot different than other kids grow up with their friends, or even their brothers for that matter. It's just that we were the same person_ long_ before we ever fused into Gotenks that first time at The Lookout, and we developed something between us that even we couldn't explain to anyone else. Goku thinks it's because we went through so much together as young kids. My dad tells me it's from mixing my blood with 'Kakarott's brat' too much. I think it's just because nobody else in the world could ever understand everything about me like Goten does, just like nobody will ever know him the way I can. 

But once we went to high school, and got to see how _regular_ kids acted around each other, it became very clear that _our_ friendship wasn't normal at all. It never occurred to us that we were _that_ close to each other - almost dependent - and we both kind of freaked out about it when other people started to notice. Suddenly, I started trying to act like every other normal kid at my school, just like Goten started acting differently once he started his freshman year, too. I wanted to be like every one else my age, and tried so hard to distance myself from what I really was. 

I didn't want it to bother me that I wasn't with Goten all of the time, that he was going on in his life without me. And I definitely didn't want to admit that I needed him more than I should, that all the friends in the world couldn't compare to the strength of the bond we had between us, that I was constantly wondering what he was doing. Or if he was wondering the same about me. I started to care less that our friendship wasn't normal in the first place and, I couldn't stand to be apart from Goten anymore. 

I'm hollow without him. 

So when Goten suggested that we spend a few weeks together after school let out for the summer, I just assumed that things would go right back to the way they were before. Maybe I depended on it. I _didn't_ expect us to have changed so much, or for us to have become so drastically different from when we used to be together. There are just so many things about him that I don't know anymore, which has been made completely obvious after the incident in the woods this morning. I keep assuming that Goten is still exactly like me and that I'm exactly like him, but it's becoming increasingly harder to realize that we're not the same person anymore.   
  
  


After I help my mother move some heavy things around in the lab after dinner, I pass by his room and take a quick glance in. Exactly what I feared the most - he's packing. 

"Goin' somewhere?" I ask rather unconvincingly, leaning up against the doorway with my hands shoved in my pockets. Can he tell I'm worried sick about this? 

He stops folding his clothes, giving me a nervous look that tells me that he probably didn't plan on telling me he was going to leave at all. I feel like shit. 

"No, well... I-" he stutters, obviously having no intentions on telling me why. I already know. "I think I should go back home, Trunks. I've been here a while and..." 

"And what? You know you're welcome to stay here as long as you want, and it's not like you don't have your own room here or anything," I crack, hearing the pathetic desperate sound to my voice. I shift my weight and look down to my feet, having forgot that I'm still pretty dirty from training earlier today. I just don't want him to go. Maybe it's that I'm afraid he'll never come back. 

His attention goes back to idly folding his clothes, responding so quiet I can barely hear him. "It's okay. I'm... just going to go. You know, my mom probably misses me, anyway. And besides, we did the fusion. That's why we did all this, right?" 

I'm not sure if he's waiting for an answer to that. There's this horrible tension in the room, so thick I can almost see it. He can't leave like this. I want things back to the way they were, even if it means getting all of this in the wide open. 

No matter how awkward it gets. 

I casually walk in the doorway of the room and sit on the opposite side of the bed. He pretends not to notice, I think. I quietly clear my throat and decide to break the ice that neither of us have touched in a long, long time. 

"So... have you ever kissed a girl before, Chibi?" 

That got his attention. 

"Wh- what?" He stops all movement. "Uh, yeah...well, n-not really," he stumbles, blushing a brighter shade than I even thought was possible. It's immediately a dead give away that Goten's _never_ talked about things like this with anyone before by the way he's fidgeting with that shirt in his hand. "I mean...w-why do you ask?" 

"Just curious, I guess." Deep breath. "I didn't know if you were, you know - doing things like that." 

"Well, what about you?" 

"Me? Um, yea. There was this girl at school once, I think she was a senior. It was while ago, but she wasn't like my girlfriend or anything," I explain, trying not to be so blunt about it. I accidentally give him eye contact for the first time since this morning, just in time to see them widen at my confession. I'm not sure what to think of his reaction here, to be honest. 

"Oh," he eventually replies once the initial shock drops from his face. "I don't know too many girls at my school. I wouldn't even-... well," he trails off, becoming slightly uneasy with where the conversation is going. "Things are... weird now, you know?" 

"Yeah." 

Uncomfortable silence. 

"Trunks?" 

"Yeah?" 

He lowers his voice. "Have you ever, you know... _done anything_? With anyone?" 

"Like... fooled around?" I can't believe I'm talking to Goten about this. 

"Yeah." 

I debate whether or not I should actually tell him this, but if we're going to get everything out in the open, I have to lay everything on the table. "Well, I did with that girl one time after school," I mumble, feeling my cheeks burn red with embarrassment. Ironic how I can talk about shit like this with any one of my other friends like it's nothing, but I feel shy around Goten. "We messed around a little in the library after hours, but it wasn't like it was anything serious." I pause before I get brave enough to go into it. "Felt good though..." 

That finally gives me a reaction that reminds me of why I came in here in the first place - he's smiling. 

"What was it like? I mean, like what did you do with her?" He says with genuine interest before quickly walking over the door to ease it close, careful not to speak too loudly. I relax once I see that glimpse of Old Goten again, and I tell him all about it. 

I couldn't be happier - we're actually talking... even thought the topic _has_ changed a bit since the last time we did. I don't care, though. I just want to know everything about him again, even if that means telling him everything about me. I'd rather share every detail of my life with him than spend it apart. 

We talk for hours together about alot of things I quite frankly didn't even know Goten was going through, too! I don't know why it surprised me though - he _is_ a half-Saiyan teenage boy like me. I hear this age is tough for even regular human kids, or so I've been told, but me and Goten have been going through hell in comparison. 

It's only after we talk about _everything _do we begin to feel more comfortable joking about it together - just like I thought would have happened last night. I tell him all about that random time at the school library - how it felt so good to be touched by someone else, and explaining why I thought it would be a good idea to try it when we were fused today, even though I don't think I would have done it if I knew Goten hadn't done as much as me on his own yet. 

After feeling like we were drifting apart from each other, we wind up hanging out like old times again, almost until three o'clock in the morning. I can feel that strength between us starting to come back, and I feel like we belong together, just like when we were younger. Despite the time we've spent living different lives, we _are_ still exactly the same inside. 

I guess some things are just meant to happen in fucked up ways. 

  
  


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I've completely forgotten about packing, but I don't want to leave anymore now. Iknow I can't stay here forever, since I'm sure my mom and dad _do_ probably miss me after being gone for so long, but I'm starting to remember how nice it feels to be so close with Trunks again. 

Everything about us finally feels like it used to. There isn't that awful awkwardness between us like there's been, and I'm starting to realize that it was because we're not supposed to live a life without each other. I'm just excited to have Trunks back, and it feels pretty good to know him again.   
  
  


Eventually, I look down to my clothes and notice that I'm still pretty filthy from the woods. I guess with everything that has happened today, I wasn't too concerned about it, and I haven't showered since this morning! 

"I think I should wash up before I fall asleep like this," I turn my head to tell the half sleeping boy lying down on the bed next to me. I just now notice that Trunks is just as dirty as I am. Typical. 

"Yeah, you stink," he jokes, nearly shoving me off the side of the bed before rolling off the other. He sniffs his shirt and makes a face. "... but I think I should hit the showers, too." 

"Well, at least I'm not the only one who stinks around here," I tease back, lightly punch him in the shoulder to counter. 

Things still haven't changed. 

I take off my shirt before throwing it on the pile of dirty clothes I've accumulated over the past few days, and head to the adjoining bathroom. This is definitely another perk to living at Capsule Corporation: private bathrooms! I'm not looking forward to use the water tub in our backyard again, as opposed to my very own private bathroom. Trunks is so lucky to live here! 

I say goodnight to him and close the door behind me. 

Stripped down, I catch a quick glimpse of my body in the mirror as I adjust the hot water to a tolerable temperature. Two weeks of training have certainly made a difference on me, but it's the Metamoru Fusion Symbol on my shoulder and down my arm that my eyes go to first. I haven't really noticed it in a while. I can still clearly remember that day me and Trunks got them in the Other World, which only serves as a reminder to me why we belong together for reasons that nobody else in the world could ever understand. I trace my hand lightly over that part of the markings that run over and down the corded muscles on my shoulder. Funny how these marks mean so much more to me now than when I got them. 

I turn my attention back to the water. I'm normally not one for scalding hot showers, but I figure I might as well take advantage of it while I still can. Dende knows as soon as I get back home, I will not get such luxuries. I will also not get the privacy that I've grown pretty used to here. 

Once in the shower, I immediately grab the soap and start scrubbing the dirt off my body and in my hair, pooling up the bottom of the tub with dirty water I'd normally have to sit in if I was in the tub back at home. But the really nice thing about being able to take a shower is that I can do _things_ without anyone knowing... 

My mind wanders to things me and Trunks talked about. I think about that girl he fooled around with - how he told me what they did, what it's like to be touched by someone else. I never really thought about it before he said anything, come to think of it. Maybe I am a little behind other guys my age in that aspect, but I_ am _curious to find out what it feels like. I'm starting to wish I remembered a little more of what it felt like this afternoon while we were fused. 

Without even thinking about it, my hand starts stroking the most sensitive part of my body as I lean the side of my head against the tiled wall and close my eyes, feeling the hot water beat down on my chest and face as I continue to quicken the pace. I don't even notice the door open or the shower curtain pull back until I hear his voice just inches from behind me. 

"I told you it feels better in the shower," he softly plays, reaching around for the soap in the dish in front of me. I jump at the interruption and freeze dead in my tracks. No way I can pretend I wasn't doing what I just was! 

"Trunks!What are y-_, why are you in here?!_" I stutter, unable to let go of myself without exposing my current state wide out in the open. I try to sound nonchalant, but it's coming across more like panic. "D-don't you have your own bathroom or something?" 

He goes on like it's nothing. "We've taken baths together before. What's the difference? Besides, you don't have to stop what you're doing on my account," he lightly remarks, lathering the bar of soap between hands and starting to wash up. 

Like I'm going to continue with him right behind me! 

"Trunks, I-" 

"Here," he says as he hands me the soap, ignoring my embarrassment completely. 

You know what? Screw it, I'm not going to act like I'm all bothered about this again. So I've got a hard on - big fucking deal! I don't care anymore! It's a part of life, right? And it's just Trunks. Nothing to hide anymore. 

I reluctantly take the bar of soap from him and put it back on the little cut out ledge of the shower wall in front of me. I even adjust the water so it hits the both of us, but it's when my hands are occupied with the shower head that I get the biggest shock of my life. I only get two little words as a warning. 

"_Trust me_..." 

A soapy hand quickly slides around my waist and wraps around the hard on I was so desperately trying to forget about up until now. Before I can manage to burst out with a scream of pure shock - or what ever reaction you have when your best friend starts jerking you off - he covers my mouth tightly with his other hand, whispering quietly in my ear from behind as he presses the back of my head to his shoulder. 

"Relax Chibi! It's only me... Just trust me - it feels better from someone else." 

I don't know what the fuck to do! He squeezes his hand over the tip of my erection that's now slippery with soap, pumping over the length in long, smooth strokes. My mind is telling me to push him through the wall, but it feels..._ oh my god_. Why is he doing this!? What am I supposed to do?! 

I make weak, pathetic attempts to get free, but it's numbing my judgment so badly I don't know what to think anymore. I close my eyes and stop fighting it, in turn making it clear without words that I don't want him to stop. I still don't know what to do, even as my body shudders from the touch in almost violent spasms. It's abundantly clear that Trunks is way more skilled in this department than I am. 

He continues to quicken the pace in perfect rhythm to my need, and slowly removes his hand from over my mouth since the aching moan I've been purring on his palm is proof enough that I'm not going to scream out at this point. Before my knees give way, I brace myself with my hands on the shower wall in front of me, trying hard not to think about what is actually happening right now. I know it's Trunks, but... _god,_ _it's fucking Trunks_! This is supposed to be wrong! 

I squeeze my eyes tight and fist my hands against the wall. It's getting to harder to hold back now. His pace is getting faster and harder, and I don't know how much more of this I can take. His other arm wraps around my waist to support me from collapsing and my entire body instantly flexes over, biting my lip as I force back a whimper under my breath. I feel my body's need to release. I can't hold out much longer. I need... I need to... 

"_T-Tr-Trunks... I-_..." 

I can't speak. I can barely breathe. 

"..._I ha-have t-t-to_..." 

Without having to say another word, Trunks speeds up the rhythm and finishes what he started, milking my orgasm over his hand and onto the wall of the shower in front of us with force I've _never_ experienced on my own. He actually has to put his hand over my mouth again, because this time I can't control the cry ripping from my throat. Even as I'm coming, he doesn't stop, and I somehow don't think I'll ever be able to come this hard again in my life. 

Once I'm completely spent, he finally lets me go, slipping his arms away from around my body and letting me collapse to my knees. He just goes back to washing up wherever he left off. Like it was nothing. 

My heartbeat is pounding through my chest and I quickly snap back to reality - the same reality where my best friend just... _oh no, what have we done?!_

I look up and see him give me a tiny smile that somehow let's me know that even after all that, everything is actually going to be fine between us. "If you don't tell anyone, I won't," he calmly says to me, rinsing off his hand in the stream of water and smoothing back his hair, now more of a dark purple from the water. "We know what we want, so why can't we just feel good together? What do you say?" 

He offers out a hand to seal the pact - one that I would have never in a million years _ever thought_ I'd make with him, or anyone else for that matter! But I feel comfortable with Trunks, much more than I thought I _ever_ would, and know our secret will be safe with us. I laugh along with him and grasp his hand to shake on it, all though I know by doing this, our friendship has just become alot stranger and more complex than it's ever been before.   
  
  


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	4. PART TWO

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion 

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**~ **PART TWO **~**

  
  
  


It's been over a year since that first night in the shower with Goten, and it's _still_ a little hard to believe that it ever even happened in the first place. I mean, I'm pretty sure most guys our age don't... well,_ interact_... with each other like we do, but I suppose most guys don't have a little scar at the base of their spine either. Goten's the only one who can relate to this. 

But ever since that night, something's happened between us that I can't even begin to explain - like most things that involve our friendship - and it's definitely changed things for the better, I think. We're so close now, like back when we were little kids - before Super Saiyan 3, before the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, before the Other World... 

Before I forgot what it was like to be around someone who truly understands me. 

It first started out with that one random time, then two others out in the forest by his house. But lately, it's become almost a regular occurrence between us after sparring, or sleeping over, or taking a shower - whenever I can sense that need in him, which is more often than you'd think. It took Goten a while before he finally worked up the courage to do the same to me in return, but I wouldn't have minded if he never did - I like that I'm able to do something for him that can make him feel_ that_ good, making him squirm under my hand the instant I start to touch him, shuddering with pleasure. I feel like he's sharing that one special part of him that nobody else gets to see but me. I know this because I share the same thing with him. 

We feel so open around each other now - so relaxed - but we still don't _ever_ bring it up in discussion. There's alot of things about us now we_ specifically_ don't bring up, but it's only because we're already aware that it's not normal behavior. We see the other guys as school, and I somehow don't think they're at home getting each other off, while me and Goten are doing _exactly that_ behind a tree somewhere. It's just different with us, but it's only because we're more comfortable around each other than teenage boys are around their best friends. Just because we can make each other happy doesn't mean it's wrong. I mean, if other kids were able to handle the awesome responsibility of having to save their planet, then maybe they, too, could handle getting off with their best friend in the shower. 

It's just a part of us now, and as long as we can keep it to ourselves, I really don't see anything wrong with what we're doing. 

And it's not like we don't know it's not a permanent thing. We know someday two random girls will probably show up in our lives and come between us, taking up all our time with each other, wanting to start families and do little couple things like little couples do. I've started to wonder what my life will be like without Goten beside me for it - to share everything with and be there for him like some dumb girl could never be. The same dumb girl who will tell us when and where we can hang out, taking all of Goten's attention for herself and leaving nothing for me. 

I think my extreme possessiveness towards my best friend is turning out to be one of the uglier side effects of our new situation. 

But there_ has_ been positive side to us being as close as we are, though. It's the fact that we're so comfortable with each other now that has made us a hell of alot more focused with our training. We can now almost completely control the length of time we're fused together, and we've been able to remember and control alot more of Gotenks' thoughts and actions, while before, it used to be more of an auto-pilot thing. At least on my side anyway. From what Goten has told me, I think it was the same for him, too.   
  
  


And with our newly acquired control with the fusion, I've finally convinced Goten to start training with my sword like I've been talking about. I figure if he masters it alone, it will be a much more of an effective weapon for Gotenks when we combine our skills. He's been working with it the last couple of times we've trained, but I'm starting to think he still has a long way to go by the looks of the latest attack he's been working on. 

"Ahhh, damnit! I can't follow through without twisting my wrist! Trunks, show me how you did it again," he grunts in frustration, trying over and over again to go through with the training movements exactly how I instructed him to. His eyes are glued to the blade as he slices it through the air, if somehow listening to it for the answer. 

Goten's always been more of a hands on fighter than me, even if I _have_ had a six year head start on him in the weapons department - I just feel more natural fighting with something in my hand. My father says it's in my royal bloodline to be drawn to the sword, since apparently most of the warriors in my family have been proficient with the same. At first, I didn't think my dad liked me using it at all, but now I can tell that he _is_ impressed with the level of which I've mastered it, even if he never says anything about it. 

Goten, on the other hand, has a different connection to his heritage, as given specially to him by his father. One of the things that Goku has carefully trained his youngest son with the is the power to draw his energy from the Earth, from his emotions, and like his older brother, has found an incredible power hidden deep within him that only Dende-knows-what can bring out. I somehow doubt I'll ever see Goten tweak out to _that _extreme in my lifetime, pushing past his current limits and becoming an Ascended Saiyan on his own, but then again, it was _his_ ki that fueled the strength for Super Saiyan 3, not mine. 

It makes me wonder if he knows that or not? 

I focus my attention back to our training, now having gone on for most of the afternoon, and completely sucked the energy from the both of us. It's quitting time! We both flop back into the thick grass to relax a bit before we get going, looking up at the sky that now shows the early signs of sunset by the color of the clouds. A perfect breeze from over the field blows over our sweat soaked bodies, cooling us off from an overheated-kind-of-day. 

Folding my arms behind my head, I close my eyes, knowing all too soon I'll have to be heading back to the city to make it in time for dinner. I'd spend all day out here if I could - I love it out in the open like this, and I try to absorb every last moment of it I can. But I know I'd better get a move on if I'm going to make it home before my mom kills me for being late again. 

Just as I make the subtlest attempt to stand, Goten stops me by reaching his hand over to me and sliding his finger under the waistband of my pants, slowly starting to untie them as he proceeds. I smile at his offer and let him continue - he knows it's just what I wanted before we have to call it a day. Without anymore hesitation, he pulls down the front of my pants and grabs a firm hold, squeezing tight and smoothly massaging me with a delightful amount force - more so than he normally gives me. My hips raise slightly into his grip, silently asking him for more, and he quickly responds to the request. He can sense exactly what I want, especially since we've done this so many times before. It's the perfect way to end the day. 

I arch my back and lose myself in the warm feeling rushing beneath his hand. Grabbing fistfuls of thick grass. Biting my bottom lip. 

My breathing becomes labored. My muscles tense. 

He knows I'm close. 

I keep my eyes closed, but I can sense he's now propped up on his elbow to give me more attention and speed to finish, pumping his hand harder and faster around me until a hot, thick fluid runs over his knuckles and onto my stomach. Something resembling a faint groan escapes my throat as he continues to empty me of my pleasure, and I open my eyes just in time to see him smiling at the effect he's caused. I return the expression, since it really isn't too often we get to look each other in the eye as we're coming, and besides, I think I like it better this way - seeing his reaction, giving_ or_ receiving.   
  
  


After a couple of minutes to recover and clean up, he helps me get to my feet and we start to walk back to his house. Flying _would_ be easier, but sometimes I want to stretch out the time I have with Goten as much as I can. The walk is my idea. 

The second we reach the foot of his back yard, we can already smell the food being cooked from inside filling the air, making my own stomach rumble with hunger - I can hear Goten's from where I stand. You know, I may get gourmet chefs at my every disposal at Capsule Corporation any time I want, but Goten still gets a home cooked meal from Chi Chi every night of the week. I wish I could say I was as lucky. Now I'm starting to wish I could stay the night like Goten offered earlier, but my mom will already be expecting me home within the next ten minutes, not that I'm going to make it anyway... 

"That sure smells good, whatever it is your mom is making for dinner," I sniff, as we walk in long strides up to his tiny house nestled near the edge of the forest. 

"So... you wanna hang out tomorrow?" 

Does he even have to ask? 

"Come by around twelve. I've got to watch my sister tomorrow afternoon, but it's all us after that. Cool?" I tell him, already thinking of the million things we can do on our day off of our training schedule. "I'll see if I can get some zeni off my mom and we'll do something fun." 

He continues heading forward, twisting back around to give me a thumbs up. "Deal! Meet you at noon." We're so casual with each other for two boys who just did what we _did_. I mean, fuck - even my stomach is still a little sticky from what just happened only minutes ago. 

I turn around myself to begin the long flight home, when something I planned on doing just dawns on me. "Chibi, wait..." I run up to him and unclasp the strap for my sword from around my chest. Confused, Goten walks towards me and stops short once I hold out my most prized possession. 

"Trunks... wh- why are you giving me this?" he questions, talking it idly from the hands that are almost reluctant to give it over to anyone else. He knows he is the only other person to ever even _hold it_, much less take care of it. 

"First off, I'mnot_ giving_ it to you," I laugh. "And second, I just want you to keep it for a while... you know, to practice." For a second, I'm nervous to let it leave my sight, but any concerns I initially had are immediately dashed once I see the respect Goten displays towards the sword, holding it tightly in his hands, carefully unsheathing it like he's never held it before. I know he will guard it with his life, and because he knows this is such a rare occurrence, I know he will genuinely practice with it until he has it mastered, even if it means that he'll never put it down. "Take care of her - it's not like I can just go and get another, you know." 

A simple reply for the most serious moments between us - he knows how important this is for me. For us. "I know." 

I give a light squeeze to his shoulder, and without anything else spoken, I lift off and head home. But even as I fly through the air at full speed, racing the sun over the mountains, I wish I could look over to see him flying along with of me. Joining me for dinner. Laughing together in my bedroom until we fall asleep. Curled up to my side until he wakes up. 

If given the chance, I would never be far from him again.   
  
  


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	5. PART THREE

** THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion 

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**~** PART THREE** ~**   
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"GOTEN!" 

Hmmm? 

"Goten! Wake up! It's almost past noon and your still in bed, young man! Where do you think you are that you can sleep in all day when there are chores to be done and school work to finish?!" she screams through my bedroom door, pounding her fist and shaking the house. I swear, my mom has no tolerance for being young. No wonder Gohan moved out the second he got married. Makes me wonder if that's _why_ he got married. 

"Goten! Can you hear me in there?!?!" 

I've lived in this house long enough to know what will happen if I don't answer this very second. "Yeah... yeah... I'm up. Just... give me a minute," I half mumble, wiping the sleep from my eyes with the back of my hand. This is what I get for staying out until five o'clock in the morning, I suppose. 

I can still here my mother go on about it as I drag myself out of bed, still half asleep and dressed in the same clothes I left the house in last night. Hopefully, my dad is home somewhere to save me from her inevitable lecture about how I _should_ be acting for a mature seventeen-year-old by now, because I really don't want to hear it. Anyway, it's not like it's completely my fault for staying out so late - it was Trunks' idea in the first place to hang out, and if he didn't get so goddamn drunk, I wouldn't have had to drag his ass home and take care of him all night. 

Well, it's not like he hasn't done the same for me plenty of times - it's only fair that I return the favor. Hell, I would have done it anyway - it's_ Trunks_. 

For a second, I catch a glimpse of myself in the small mirror over my dresser, littered with all kinds of ticket stubs and loose pictures of things we've done together since I've last cleaned my room, or even _slept_ in my room, come to think of it. My hair is a mess, but not nearly as crazy as it used to be before I cut it short. I was just tired of hearing the "_you look just like your father, Goten_"-comment for the millionth time, so I decided to start looking like _Goten_ already instead of just a younger version of my dad. Don't get me wrong - I love my dad and I know he's the greatest... but looking like the guy who saved the world a hundred times over definitely comes with a heavy responsibility. Maybe no one actually says anything to my face, but I know that's what they're thinking. So I chopped it off, save my random spikes jetting forward in the front. This was right around the same time Trunks started parting his hair in the middle as opposed to the lopsided cut he's had all his life as a kid. 

After I change out of my clothes into something else probably just as wrinkled on the floor of my room, I head down to the kitchen to find something to eat. But before I can even get two feet into the door, my mom already starts ripping into me for anything and everything that reminds me how I'm the 'Second Best Son' in this family. She doesn't even turn around from the pile of dishes she's washing, just laying on the guilt from over her shoulder without even an opening question. 

"Honestly, Goten! I've raised you better than this. You should be more responsible for your age, instead of gallivanting around with that spoiled, arrogant delinquent you hang around with. He's no better than his par-" 

"Trunks is my best friend, mom! Don't talk about him like that!" I snap back before realizing the ramifications of my quick mouth. Normally, I don't _ever_ talk back to my parents - no matter what - so it's no surprise that my mom looks at me like she's going to have a heart attack. I didn't mean for it to come out that way, but I'm just tired of her talking about Trunks like he's this bad influence on me. She doesn't know anything about him. Or us. 

"SON GOTEN! Don't you ever use that tone with me again, _do you hear me_?! I will not have a disrespectful son living under my roof!" she yells, her black eyes narrowing straight at me. My mom doesn't have the power that I have, but like Trunks' mom, there is a reason that none of us cross her. Before she can continue, my dad thankfully comes to my defense, stepping around behind her to defuse the bomb. 

"Oh, Chi Chi, he's just being a kid. I'm sure he and Trunks didn't mean to stay out so late last night, did you son?" he motions to me for a quick response, giving a wink behind her back. Sometimes, I forget that my dad can be so cool about things sometimes, as he's covered for me and Gohan many times throughout the past few years. "They're young - let the boys have some fun once in a while." Before she can say another word, he bends down to give her a kiss on the cheek to calm the beast that is my mother, which always seems to work somehow. I'm reminded that I have to thank him for saving my ass yet again the next time we spar. 

His tactic only works for exactly two seconds, all though it does mellow her somewhat. 

"That's no excuse, Goku! Your son has been skipping out on school and on his studies to waste time with that friend of his and I don't like it one bit! He should be trying to settle down and find a girl to marry, not spend all his time training and partying!" She motions her direction back to me and I try my hardest to bite my tongue from lashing out again. She waits for a response from my dad to agree with her, but he just smiles back, telling her that he's still on my side. "_I can still smell the alcohol on him, Goku_! So don't tell me that hooligan is a good influence on him." She walks right up to me, reminding me of where most of this speech is coming from in the first place. "_He_ may have everything set, but _you_ still need to work for a scholarship, mister. You haven't been born with the luxury of having a silver spoon in your mouth..." 

I don't want to hear anymore. 

"I'm going out!" 

"Where are you going?!" 

She doesn't need an answer, does she? 

"I don't want that boy to jeopardize your future, Goten! Do you hear me, young man?" she shouts as I open the door, now more of a sound of motherly desperation in her voice that only she could unleash in a moment like this. I grip my hand firmly against the frame of the door, trying with everything I have to not sound like a child, all though I know that's what she will think of me anyway. I'll always be the baby, no matter how much I've grown up. 

"Trunks is _in_ my future, mom." Without furthering the conversation any more, I slam the door behind me, perhaps a little harder than I meant to, giving me the last word without any more questions. But before I take off for the one place I want to be the most, I can already hear the argument insuing on the other side, no doubt started by my outburst. Not that the argument is two sided - it never is. But nevertheless, I think she sounds more upset than mad, and now my poor dad has to take the blunt end of it. 

I listen closely. 

"I don't understand why he's acting like this, Goku. This isn't my Goten... he isn't..." 

"..._Seven years old anymore_?" he laughs. "You have to face it Chi Chi - our son isn't a little boy anymore. He's grown up fast." 

"But why isn't he looking for a girlfriend then? He's almost eighteen years old, Goku! He should be showing some kind of interest in this and... he's not," she cries, making my heart ache for causing my mother so much grief over something she doesn't have the first clue about. I know she wants me to follow in Gohan's foot steps and marry young and spawn her another grandchild and live ten feet from her front door, but I'm not ready for that yet. 

What I want right now has nothing to do with that. There's too many things I want to do before I tie myself down to one girl. I want the chance to be Son Goten first, not Chichi's son, or Goku's look alike. I need to be me before I can be a we. Well, a 'we' with anyone besides Trunks... but he doesn't count. 

He's not a girl. 

My father steps in to defend me as usual, and I'm starting to think he's the only one who can even see my side at all. "Goten is just really focused with his training right now and I think we should support him with it, Chi. He's young - kids don't get married at the age that we did anymore." His voice lowers to her. "Maybe we should just let him figure out what he wants to do on his own, don't you think? Even if that means he's spending his time right now with someone who can understand what it's like to be what he is." 

"But then why doesn't he talk to Gohan? Or you? Why has he been shutting out his family like this for that boy?!" Quite sobbing breaks my heart. "The two of them... they're too old to be behaving like this. It's... it's just not proper." 

Her voice muffles, probably cut off from being held by my dad. I hate that she feels like I don't care about my family anymore because it's not true, but I need Trunks' friendship more than I can explain to her. She won't understand. Nobody will. We will always be there for each other, and just replacing him with some girl just to please my mother's wish for more grandchildren is not an option for me. Somehow, I don't think it will ever be. 

I can't stand here and listen to this anymore. My feet lift from the ground, and without raising my ki any more than I have to, I fly to someplace where I'll forget about all of this. Someplace where I feel like everything is like it's supposed to be. The one place I never want to leave.   
  


For the past few days, Trunks has been making the slow process of moving out of his house into his own place located Uptown in West City. He's not officially moved in yet, but I don't blame him for wanting to get out in the first place. It's the same reason _I _want to. Like my own mother, Bulma's become just another one of those people who sees us as 'inappropriate' now, and answering endless questions on a regular basis over the dinner table was more than enough reason for Trunks to pack up and get out on his own already. He tells everyone that it's because of the new position at Capsule Corporation his mom is making him take, giving him more time to handle miscellaneous business matters and become an adult about it. But I know the real reason. 

For everyone else, though, it sounds perfectly understandable that the ninteen-year-old Vice President of one of the most powerful companies in the world is finally making the move out of his 'mommy's house' and getting his own place already, so nobody has objected so far to my knowledge. I, personally, couldn't be more excited about it. The huge, warehouse-style loft that Trunks picked out, located in the middle of West City's culture district is, by far, the coolest place I've ever seen, and since his comfy business account at Capsule Corporation is picking up the enormous rent tab, price was never an issue when he went hunting around for his new place. 

Other than the two of us drinking at his new place last night with a bunch of the guys from his office and friends from high school to break in the new joint, nobody's even seen it. Not even his parents, since we both figure that Bulma will have a fit for her son picking out such an expensive and oversized place as a first apartment. But little by little, he's been moving his stuff over, buying even more stuff along the way to fill it up, and I think after this weekend, we'll pretty much have all of it over and we can officially move in. 

I say _we _because I will probably be spending as much time there as Trunks will, all though I'm sure I'll be getting hell from my mom once she figures out my plan. 

Trunks asked me to live with him before he even started looking for a place, but because I still have another year of high school, my parents weren't exactly supportive of the idea, especially since it would either require me switching schools or dropping out - neither being and option. So when Trunks was deciding what kind of place to look for, it was really no surprise that he looked for a place that both of us could live in 'unofficially' until the second I graduate school, whether I would be the official roommate or not. We both knew I'd be spending every chance I got at the place anyway, which would pretty much make me a roommate, if not simply by default. And besides, it was only on the other side of town from Capsule Corporation, so it wasn't like I wouldn't be out in this direction anyway.   
  


As I soar under the hot afternoon sun at my normal leisurely speed, I think of how awesome it's going to be to be with each other as much as we want without having to deal with all of the bullshit we usually have to put up with when we're home - Nobody to look at us weird. Nobody to constantly question why we're so close. Nobody to tell us it's wrong. 

I find myself picking up the pace, flying faster over the mountains that overlook the city in front of me so that I can finally feel normal again.   


  


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My dad's been acting strange around me for weeks. Not his regular indifference, mind you, but he seems to be watching me. Keeping track of what I'm doing and where I'm going. It kinda freaks me out to have him always looking over my shoulder, but I figure that it's probably because I'm moving out or something. Not that I can figure out why he'd even give a shit about that in the first place - he's always telling me to "grow up and to stop fucking around with my life", so you'd think he'd _want_ me out of the house already. 

Hey, that's fine with me. Let Bra deal with him - I'm over trying to figure him out.   
  


"Does Kakarott's brat know you're leaving this house? I don't need him coming over here like a lost puppy looking for you, you know," he remarks from the door, his arms no doubtably folded across his chest to look as tough as you can with a giggling seven-year-old latched on to his neck. Bra can make even my father look ridiculous sometimes. 

I only turn to face him for a second, and instead dryly replying as I continue to pack the last of the books from my shelves into a box. "Yes, father. He knows I'm moving." I roll my eyes at the stupidest question. "And his name is Goten, dad. _Goten_. You know, the kid I've been friends with for my entire life?" 

No reaction to my sarcastic tone, even though I can't tell by Bra's ever present screeching overpowering my hearing. "Daaaaaddy! Let me down!!!" A clumsy thump on the hardwood floor lets me know that he actually let her go without a fight, but knowing my sister, I seriously doubt she's even phased - she's got a head even thicker than my mom's. 

She comes running into my room and flops dramatically on my bed, like most little girls her age would when their trying to get attention. With Bra, it always works. Even with my dad. 

"Truuuuunks, I don't want you to leave. Pleeeeease stay! I'll never see you again," she pretends to pout, propping herself up on her elbows with her chin in her hands. She's such a ham. "I'll be so sad if you leave me!" 

Her act works. I drop what I'm doing and scoop her up in my arms, throwing her upside down over my shoulder and tickling her stomach. The laughing is deafening as I gruff in her ear, "You know you can't get rid of me, Bra. I'm never leaving you alone!" All though I will miss being the role of Big Brother everyday once I'm gone. 

"But you're going to be with Goten all the time now. You'll forget about me! I know it..." she trails off. 

"Goten won't _let _me forget about you, Little Princess. He's got a crush on you, you know," I smile as I whisper secretly to her, making her light up and blush all at the same time. I know that she drools all over him just like any other little seven-year-old girl would, I suppose, but I certainly know how to push her buttons about it. 

"Shut up, Trunks!!! Put me down, now!!!" she shrieks, jumping to the ground and folding her arms to look all tough in front of me. 

Like father like daughter. 

My dad steps up from behind her. "Bra, go bother your mother in the lab. I need to talk to your brother for a minute," he tells her, giving her a pat on the back to help her find her way out of the room. Since she's still pretending to be mad at me, it doesn't take alot for her to leave. At least not after being promised an ice cream cone for lunch in the garden with the Prince of All Saiyans. Funny how my dad calls himself the last true warrior in the universe, but still melts under the tiny hand of my little sister whenever she bats her eyes. Now _that's_ power. 

I shift my attention back to my packing. His intention to talk to me alone here is actually making me a little nervous, and I don't know if I should be worried. There's a long silence between us as he watches me pack, or so I assume. I don't look over to see what he's waiting for. 

"I know you don't intend to live alone in this new place you've found for yourself." He doesn't waste any time getting to a point. 

"What?" 

"I'm not as gullible as your mother, Trunks. I know what you've been doing with that boy - I can smell his sent all over you." Blunt as ever as he watches me fumble with the book in my hand. 

I barely conjure up a decent response to get myself out of the corner I've been backed into. I feel like I'm going to pass out. "We fuse... alot, dad. And we spar. I'm sure he smells just as much like me, too." I don't think that quite came out like I intended it to. Crap... 

He doesn't buy any of it. He just uses that monotone emotion of his that always seems to make things sound more like he's giving orders. "I don't care what you choose to do with the boy in your free time. I just want you to listen to the blood running through your veins, instead of the human garbage you've been fed your whole life by your mother - about what young men your age are supposed to do." 

I'm sure I look as confused as I feel. 

"You're Saiyan instincts will only be satisfied through a bond that human courting will not allow you to develop, so don't be so damned concerned about what this human culture thinks of it. I want you to at least respect what you are." 

"I... don't think I understand?" I swallow hard, hoping he didn't notice the sweat drop running down the side of my face. Why is he telling me this now? 

He waits a second and walks up to me closer, arms still crossed, looking me dead in the eye. There's only been a few times in my life where my dad has sat me down and formally told me about the Saiyan culture, and what it means to be the royal heir to the throne and carry it out, even if I am the last one to do so. In fact, it's been years since he's really said anything about it and I was starting to think he wasn't going to anymore. The last big talk was about my sword and why it was important that I master my weapon, but that was a while ago. I have no idea where he's going with this one. 

For the first time since he's been in my room tonight, he softens his voice. Maybe because he doesn't want anyone to hear. "Your mother never wanted me to encourage you to bond with the mate you choose someday, but as my son, I want you to honor your Saiyan blood. The last of a royal line will at least know how to properly mate in the true sense of his culture," he says to me, silently asking me to give him the satisfaction that I will at least give him this much. I may not have the physical Saiyan traits that I know he wishes his own son had, but I have always honored what it means to be the last of our kind the best I could. 

I only nod in understanding, letting him continue to me about what is involved in the ritual, and what things need to happen in order for the bond to complete once it has formed. Also how strong it can become if both are submitting to it, and what could happen if it should ever become broken. 

I can't imagine having to do this with a girl someday, and I'm pretty sure it would scare the shit out of her _even _if I could get her to go through with it. On Vegetasei, rough, physical mating under so many circumstances and instincts was probably common. But here on Earth, it sounds more like borderline assault. How my dad _ever_ got my mom to do it is totally beyond me! 

I listen to everything he tells me about it, all though I don't really understand how it works. I'm told that I will know what to do when the time is right, but I'm starting to think that I'm not as Saiyan as I thought I was, since none of this seems like natural instinct to me _at all_! I just can't imagine having this driving force inside me that would make me want to do this with anyone, much less someone who will understand why it is so important that I continue my culture. Even if I'm the last one left who will ever do it.   


  


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	6. PART THREE concluded

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion 

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**~ **PART THREE (continued) **~**

  
  
  


I finally get to the front door of Capsule Corporation, having cleared my mind of the fiasco in my kitchen from earlier this afternoon. Since it's such a nice day, though, I decided to take the human way of getting here: I took the bus. I can't remember the last time I took public transportation, probably not since when I was a kid and my mom was still taking me and Gohan into Satan City for back-to-school shopping. Once my dad came back, he pretty much took over driving us into the city whenever we needed, so there's really been no need for it, but to be honest, I still would have rather taken the bus - my dad's a horrible driver. 

Once I walk up to the front door, I do something else I haven't done in a while: I actually ring the doorbell. It only takes a second for one of the main double doors to crack open with a tiny face about waist high peeking through the slit. The aqua hair is a dead give away. 

"GOTEN!" she squeals, throwing the door wide open and almost off its hinges. The girl has yet to learn about her strength verses everyday household objects. The minute she sees me, she lights up like a Christmas tree, just like every other time I've dropped by this house, and despite the chocolate ice cream cone in her hand dripping down her arm and onto the floor, she's nothing but a bundle of smiles. 

"How's my favorite girl doin'? Break any hearts today?" I jokingly flirt with her as I tousle one of her pigtails - I know she loves it. She responds with nothing but a giggle and some hardcore blushing across her nose as she bashfully looks the the ground. "Bra, is your brother here?" 

"He's upstairs packing. You know, I'm going to get his room when he leaves," she announces proudly. 

"What about my room? Will that be your room, too?" 

"No..." she slyly hints around, looking at me with her wide innocent eyes. "That will always be _your_ room, Goten! You can sleep over whenever you want. It's fine with me." She tries to act so adult it's cute. Oh, if Trunks only knew what his little sister was growing up into. I laugh at the thought of him pounding every guy who comes within twenty feet of her once she gets to high school... if Vegeta doesn't get to them first. 

I bend down and plant a big kiss on her cheek and take a giant lick of her melting ice cream cone before it looses another drip, freezing her rock solid in place. "Just promise me you'll always be my girl. Okay? No matter who sweeps you off your feet someday. Promise?" 

Before I can even straighten up, she immediately latches onto my neck, squeezing the life out of me for a second, and takes off squealing into the house. I can already hear her yelling for her mother, going on about how me and her are going to get married someday. I can't help but smile. 

"You here to help, or just hit on my little sister?" he cracks from the top of the stairs, boxes stacked high in his arms which are no doubt filled with more junk from his room to be moved to his new place. Without much of a warning, he chucks the boxes in my direction. Luckily, I catch them with little effort, all though they're heavier than I expected. What is he packing anyway? Rocks? 

"I have to please my fans, Trunks. If I had a little sister, she'd be gushing all over you, too. Besides, isn't my niece still the official President of the 'Trunks Briefs Fan Club'." 

He just shakes his head at my corny humor, and heads back up stairs for another load. 

After whatever we're bringing over today, we should have all of it moved out, but knowing Trunks, he's probably going to take everything with him that's not nailed down. I set the boxes on the floor near the front door, and follow him back up the stairs to his room to hopefully begin the last day of this back-and-forth-across-town stuff. I don't mind helping him out or anything - I'm just excited to finally spend our first night at the new place, and officially have somewhere to be ourselves.   
  
  
  


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Two car loads and four pizzas later, me and Goten finally call it a day. It's official: I am now out on my own! 

My raven haired counterpart flops down into the thick cushions of my new couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table like he owns the place. "Oh man, Trunks! I _really _wish I lived here," he sighs, looking over the spacious room now that it's beginning to look like an apartment instead of an empty studio. _I_ know it looks different just by the fact that I'm able to call it my own. 

"You_ do_ live here, you dork. That's why I got this place." 

He laughs sarcastically at my smart ass remark. "But I can't really stay here_ all _the time - my mom will shoot me! I mean, I _want _to stay here, but..." 

"I know." 

I wish Goten could live here with me. It would be perfect - parties, chicks, anything we want, any time we want it. Just the thought alone of never getting caught doing something we're not supposed to makes me start to hate the year difference in our ages again. If only he wasn't still in school... everything would be different. But come Monday morning, I know I'm not going to want him to leave. 

"Well, why don't I stroll over to _our_ kitchen to get some beers out of _our _refrigerator, and you and me can enjoy tonight together in _our_ new place - Just us. Sound good?" I ask as I crack a smile at my blatant display of including him in every way possible to make him feel at home, despite the fact he won't be getting his mail here anytime soon. Goten's the reason I moved out in the first place, if you think about it, so I want everything here to be _ours_, not just _mine_. 

"Right on!" Without having to convince him any further, he reaches over the side of the couch and plugs in the stereo, turning it up to levels we would surely get screamed at for if we were back at home. "This is going to make it hard to go back, you know." 

I know. 

I'm really starting to wish he didn't have to. As I scan around the room on my way to the kitchen, I realize that the amount of stuff I've still got in boxes scattered everywhere will probably take me a year - if not more - to unpack. I didn't even bring _everything_, which makes it more obvious that I have entirely too much shit in the first place. But of all the boxes piled almost to the ceiling, one small brown one off to the side catches my attention the most, standing apart from all the others. Clearly the most important one here, at least to me. 

It's marked "Goten's things". 

I hope someday, there will be more of those kind of boxes to unpack instead of just the one. 

"You gettin' me a beer, Trunks. Or are you just going to stare at the boxes all night?" he laughs, snapping me out of the little sentimental moment I've created for myself. He must think I'm such a idiot sometimes. 

"Yeah yeah. Hang on..." I call back, swinging open the huge stainless steel doors of the oversized refrigerator I bought yesterday to match the rest of the appliances in the kitchen. Needless to say, there's nothing in it right now but a couple six-packs left over from last night, and I somehow think this will be the usual sight when I open this thing, seeing how neither me nor Goten know how to cook very well, or even go shopping for that matter. I think I just bought myself a very expensive beer cooler. 

I grab two and throw one over to his direction. "Heads up!" I don't even have to look past the doors to know he caught it. The kid's got the quickest reflexes I've ever seen. He's also got the highest liquor tolerance I've ever seen. Since it took me all of five drinks to get me plastered last night, I have to reluctantly admit that I'm definitely the lightweight between us in that aspect, and judging by the empty can just thrown back in my direction, Goten is more than aware of it. 

I'm in trouble.   


  


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By no means would I ever take advantage of my best friend's lack of judgment when he's intoxicated. Really. I'm a nice guy. I look out for Trunks, though mostly so he doesn't wreck half the house or kill himself. But whenever alcohol becomes a factor between us, little else is. 

Fact of the matter: Trunks is a pussy. At least when it comes to drinking. Granted we haven't had that much experience, especially since we're both under twenty-one, but the little card that I snatched from my brother's wallet that 'magically' turns me into Son Gohan when I'm in the liquor store certainly helps out our practice. As usual, Trunks can't even get past a six pack and he's already slurring his words and stumbling all over the apartment. But what I like most about his current state is his ability to not give a fuck. I know that's at least where I'm at right now. 

"Tell you what..." he proposes to me, standing slightly crooked against the island in the middle of the kitchen. He smiles mischievously with half-lidded eyes at his master plan. "I'll go heat up the shower and... if you..._ you know_... want to do anything..." 

I still think it's amazing how comfortable we are about this, compared to the first time almost four years ago. 

"You read my mind." 

He tilts his head down to the side and laughs lazily under his breath as chunks of his pale lavender hair fall into his eyes, giving me a quick glimpse of that innocent little boy that's still inside him somewhere, even though it's normally lost under his grown up facade. I know he has to put on that act about being Mr. Big Corporate Guy at work, but I think I'm the only one that still gets to see the real Trunks anymore. Even if it's only when we're alone. 

"You sure you're not too drunk there?" I crack, referencing his askewed attempt at vertical. "By the way you're using that counter as a crutch, I don't think you'll handle being on a wet surface next to a glass door very well." 

"Nah. I'm fine. C'mon..." He motions for me to follow, shuffling towards the bathroom with drink still in hand. 

I hang back a minute before joining him in, and instead start to pick up some of the empties and other garbage lying around on the coffee table and in the kitchen. I know he won't start without me, but... come to think of it, there's a good chance he might pass out. With that thought, I drop what I'm doing and quickly down the rest of my drink to catch up as best I can. The fuzzy hiss of the shower water being turned on is my cue to get moving.   
  
  


The bathroom in this place is huge! Bigger than even the ones at Capsule Corporation, I think. As soon as I step in, I look down to the floor and can tell that Trunks must of had a hard time getting undressed by the ripped tee-shirt and jeans trailed up to the shower doors. This isn't the first time he's been in a hurry to get naked for something like this. 

"You know Trunks, I would have helped you instead of having to tear your damn clothes off. Next time call me..." 

"The water feels great." He doesn't care. I should know this by now. 

"I'm sure it does," I pretend to agree, shaking my head at his total indifference to sacrificing another pair of underwear from his lack of patience. I strip down to nothing and throw my clothes in a pile by the corner before sliding the shower door open. Through the hot steam, I can already see him leaning up against the back of the glass with closed eyes, arms pressed down to the sides of the wall next to him, hot water pouring off his body in sheets. "You look like you're practicing to model for a calendar or something, you know that?" I laugh at him as I step in, flinching at the temperature before closing the door behind me. 

"The water feels _so _great." 

"So I've heard." I don't hesitate. "But I think I know what might feel better," I rasp in a deep voice, bracing the palm of my hand flat against tiles beside his head, wrapping the other tightly around his already growing erection. He doesn't even open his eyes, just eliciting a low groan from his throat that tells me he likes it. Of course, I knew he would - we've done this too many times for me not to. 

I take my time and watch him closely, paying attention to every reaction to please him just like he wants, making him ache with pleasure. I revel in the fact that I can do this to him. I think I feel more powerful because of it - teasing him, making him anticipate my every action. Pulsing under my grip, desperate for me to give him more. I can't believe that this is what it's become over the years - this casual thing between us that only _we_ can seem to justify in some twisted, fucked up way. I just can't imagine not being able to share this with him anymore, even though the slightest thought of it would have totally freaked me out a couple years ago. 

He bites down hard on his bottom lip and pushes his hands firmly against the sides of the walls beside him, flexing his arms as he drops his head. 

He's trying to hold back. 

"Don't fight it, Trunks," I whisper in next to his ear, quickly losing any inhibitions I have about what we're doing. "Come for me." 

..._Did I say that out loud?_

As odd as it may sound, we usually don't have much extra physical contact when we do this with each other. The fact that Trunks is drunk is probably the only reason we are now. But I really don't care to be honest - it's making it more intense than I ever imagined it could. He leans forward slightly to rest his forehead against my shoulder, and the low moan that's rumbling from his chest now vibrates through mine. My own aching need carelessly brushes up against his leg, but I wonder if he even notices? Before I can think of an appropriate reaction to it, he suddenly grabs a hold of me, mimicking my actions almost exactly as he slides his hand over and over until I'm near painfully aroused under his touch. 

I'm rapidly forgetting where I am, simultaneously stroking one another until I choke out a cry under my breath. 

"Why don't _you_ come for me," he breathes heavy on my neck, deeply inhaling the sent of my wet skin as he grabs onto the back of my shoulder tightly. His fingers dig into the muscle, almost desperately holding on. At this point, I don't know if he's drunk or crazy _or what_! Frankly, I don't care. I don't want him to let go. 

I wrap my arm around him and run my hand up through the short hair at the nape of his neck - pressing the side of my face to his soaking wet hair and losing myself completely in the sensation of doing this together - a far stretch from the first time we did this! There was hardly any contact at all back then, but now... now we're so close, our hands are hitting as we pick up the pace, speeding up for our release, grabbing onto each other with more force than I realize. But just like every other aspect about us, he and I are in perfect sync and we both squeeze harder and pump faster until we finally reach our climax together for the first time. Easily the most incredible feeling I've ever experienced in all seventeen years of my life! 

All too quickly we've finished, leaving us crushed against each other in the heavy rain of water from behind me. Trunks' body moving with mine as my chest rises and falls. Inhaling the moist steam around us and feeling his hot cum drip down my stomach, as I'm sure I've done to him, too. My breathing is ragged. His heart is pounding. And yet I've never been _this _close to him before... but if I never had to get out of this shower again, I wouldn't. 

"Did I already mention that I fucking _love_ this apartment?"   


  


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:: **please review** :: 


	7. PART FOUR

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion 

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**~** PART FOUR **~**

  
  
  


"DAMNIT TRUNKS!" 

Once again, I can't even find a single pair of jeans in our closet that don't need serious washing. Wearing clothes more than once is understandable. Even twice - we are guys after all. But two months without doing laundry is starting to offend even_ me_! Dende knows he'd rather buy new clothes then wash the ones he already has. 

I think I'm catching on that Trunks isn't exactly the most normal person to live with. 

Don't get me wrong - we get along better than we ever have. We have the same taste in food, style, the chicks we've dated. Hell, we even share clothes, right down to the underwear. But as it turns out, all the years living with a twenty-four hour cook and maid have made my best friend spoiled rotten beyond all recognition, at least as far as I'm concerned. I _am_ teaching him. Slowly. But I'm sure he'd probably be living under a heap of dirty clothes and dishes by now if I weren't here to pick up after him all the time. I suppose that's my trade off for not ever having to work, but you would think after over six years of living with him I'd be used to this shit by now. 

Trunks has been gone since seven-fifteen this morning, up even earlier than that. He probably won't come home until after ten. I know that he hates every second working at Capsule Corporation, being the youngest Vice President in it's history, but it isn't exactly his choice to have to be ready to take over the company within the next year. I know he'd rather sleep in late with me, waking up at noon, staying up until three a.m. Training and meditating, or spending the entire day in our pajamas and eating cereal out of the box. But I guess being the all-powerful businessman comes with a price. If it isn't the constant meetings or mountains of weekend paperwork that's perpetually piled on his desk, it's Bulma breathing down his neck so that he doesn't purposely run the company into the ground. Or having to pretend to be someone he isn't because Trunks Briefs _the man _has to be a lot different than Trunks Briefs _the guy_. I should know. 

It's about now that I stop complaining about picking up his shit and just be thankful about not having to ever wear a tie. 

After making something quick and random in the kitchen to eat for an absurdly late breakfast, I finish cleaning up the apartment and jump in the shower. I plan on meeting Trunks at work today after his morning meeting so we can go out to lunch, since by the time it's over he'll probably be ready to jump out the window. It's supposed to be over at one o'clock, but nothing is ever definite at that place. I just hope he doesn't have to stay late again. 

I get lonely here without him.   
  


"I have a one o'clock with Mr. Briefs," I smoothly tell his secretary, who looks swamped with phone calls and office nonsense that I don't even want to begin to understand. I can't believe I, of all people, have to make an appointment to see Trunks for lunch. Sometimes I feel like such a client when I'm here. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. He's going to be tied up in his meeting indefinitely for the rest of the day. But I can take a message if you'd like, unless you'd rather reschedule..." The typical response I get when I try to see him. I know there's nothing she can do, despite the apologetic look on her face - we've had this conversation before, so it isn't like this is anything new. 

I let out a deep breath and try not to look so dejected, even though I am - it's clear in my voice. "That's all right, I guess. Just.... tell him I stopped by, would you?" She nods with a weak smile. Even his secretary knows that this company is burning him out. 

Dragging my feet back through the fleet of cubicles and office interns running around like chickens with their heads cut off, I realize that I'm slowly starting to hate this place for everything that it stands for. Mostly for what it's trying to turn Trunks into. I'm so buried in my thoughts and scowling at the white-collar world around me, I don't even look up to see whom I run into. 

"Wh- Goten! Well, isn't this a nice surprise," she chirps, forgetting about whatever it was that she was doing to welcome me like I was her own son. Bulma's always been like a second mother to me, especially since I think I've spent more of my childhood at her house than my own. But the corporate, power-suit wearing woman standing before me is a far cry from the one who has screamed at me and Trunks in her nightgown for breaking the Gravity Simulator on so many occasions. He face drops sympathetically, probably to mirror my own disappointment. "Oh Honey, he's stuck in meeting with the new stock holders, but if you want, I'll tell him you stopped by." 

My world is an answering machine message. 

"Thanks, but I already checked in. We were just going to meet for lunch, but I..." She runs right over my response, like the bull-headed businesswoman she is. 

"Goten, you should say hello to our newest intern here at Capsule Corporation," she says like an advertisement while pointing to the blonde head of hair poking over of the top of her tiny three-sided office. Two big blue eyes look at me like a deer in the headlights, and I don't have to blink twice to know whom they belong to. 

"_Marron_?! Is that you?" I say with honest surprise at seeing her, of all people. I immediately step around the wall to pick her up off her chair and hug her like old times. "What are you doing here?" 

"I..." 

Enter Bulma's big mouth. 

"Marron's our latest addition to the Capsule Corporation family, Goten. This is her first day and I'm just showing her the ropes around here," she casually boasts proudly, like I give a damn about this place. "She's going to be staying with us at the house until she can find an apartment of her own here in the City so she doesn't have to commute in from the island." 

I finally set her down and put my hands on her shoulders, amazed at how much she's changed from the last time I've seen her. "You know... it's just so great to see you again. How are your folks? Been puttin' up with Roshi okay?" I tease, making her blush at my interest. 

"Let's just say it was _more_ than enough reason for me to move out," she laughs at my comment as she flops back in her chair, straightening the stack of papers I accidentally scattered all over her desk. "But," she adds. "Bulma was nice enough to help me get my foot in the door at the company, and so... here I am!" She sounds the same as when I last remember her, and her bright smile has barely changed, apart from the fact that she isn't quite the little girl anymore. 

My current open afternoon availability suddenly dawns on me. "Well, I tell you what - why don't we catch up over some lunch? When do you get your break?" 

Bulma is right there with us. "Yes! That sounds like a great idea! Marron, why don't you go ahead and take your lunch now, and the two of you have a wonderful afternoon. Take as much time as you'd like! And hey - Goten could probably help you get to know the city better while your at it, _hmmmm_?" she beams, obviously up to something by the tone of her question. 

"...But Bulma, I have these files to work on that you gave me, and..." she explains to her, motioning to the considerable stack of folders piled on her desk. 

Bulma quickly reaches down over the wall and snatches up the files, never once breaking eye contact with me. "What files?" She asks with a wink to Marron. _What the fuck...?_

"Uh, well... thanks... Bulma!" Marron squeaks out as Bulma departs in a hurry with nothing more than an evil Briefs smile shot back over her shoulder in our direction. I try not to think too much about what she's always plotting - makes my head hurt. 

Turning to Marron, who looks somewhat speechless and confused about pretty much being given the rest of the afternoon off on her first day on the job, I smile at her as I grab her hand. "C'mon! My treat," I offer playfully, although she's still stuck in stun mode at her first experience in office management from the owner of the company. 

"What... was_ that_ all about? W-...?" 

I grab a little wrapped piece of candy out of the jar on Marron's desk and pop it in my mouth, watching Bulma command down the hall, all proud of herself for her newest little match making efforts. Sucking the candy, I explain in the simplest terms what I have now figured out. "Probably so I stay away from her son more often," I say flatly, turning my attention back to Marron, now more confused than earlier. Judging from her expression, this will obviously need an explanation over lunch. "Forget about it - let's get going."   
  
  
  


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The top button on my shirt is undone. My tie is loosened. Glasses off. The brain is fried. 

It's time to go the fuck home, chill out with Goten, and forget this day ever happened. While I'm at it, I'm going to go ahead and forget this entire _week_ ever happened! I'm so sick of being here and I really don't want to do this anymore. When was the last time I picked up my sword to train, or spent the morning in pajamas joking around with Goten while we ordered in take-out from our favorite restaurant? Or even felt like myself for a change? _This_ isn't who I am. 

I gather up the sales reports and whatever other crap has been thrown on my desk for me to slog through, and shove it all into my briefcase, throwing my wire-framed glasses on top of the pile before snapping it shut. Without wasting another second, I exit my office the way I've been told a million times _not_ to and slide open one of the windows behind my desk. But before I can even get one foot on the sill I hear the voice of my secretary on my intercom, automatically forbidding me to take the leap home. 

"Mr. Briefs, the investors are here to see you about those budget changes. And your mother wants you to look the proposals with them before you leave. Can I let them in to see you?" 

I'm twenty-five years old, and I'm working a life sentence at my own company.   
  
  
  


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The waitress pours me a refill for my cup of black coffee, bringing Marron the sugary little cappuccino concoction she ordered. After an incredible afternoon of catching up with her and showing her all over town to Trunks and my favorite places - the waterfront, the city central park, the obscure indie shopping district - we finally found our way here to one of the many genuinely decent coffee shops I've been finding myself at so much lately. The same one I always seem to be waiting in for Trunks to get out of work. The one right across the street from Capsule Corporation. 

"So, how are your parents about everything? You know - about living with Trunks out here?" she asks, smashing her fork into the last crumbs of what's left of the slice of her chocolate cake. "Obviously Bulma's got her own opinions." The girl _is_ sharp. 

I blow on my coffee a little before taking a small sip. "My dad doesn't care, but I think my mom would rather me stay at home until I get married or something. Like Gohan," I automatically respond, taking a drink as I explain how my friendship with Trunks isn't always taken the right way. I think I'm starting to sound bitter. "She doesn't understand why we're living together. But... I don't know, I guess I'm just a little tired of always trying to explain us to everyone. We really are just friends, Marron." Here I go on the defense again, although I don't mean to. 

"But, doesn't it bother you guys that people, _you know_... are always thinking the wrong thing about you two?" 

I take a deep breath and release the tension building up in my shoulders. "Not anymore. It used to _really_ bother Trunks there for a while, but we're just so used to tuning that kind of bullshit out now..." I trail off, leaving the unsaid exactly that since the impatience in my voice must surely tell her I want to change the subject. I uncomfortably shift my position in my seat, leaning in slightly on my chair and placing my cup down on the table. "Enough of my end - what's going on with you? How are your parents about finally getting off that rock?" She returns my smile weakly as she finally sets her fork on her plate. 

"Oh, I think that's a whole other can of worms to get into - with my mom on my back about marrying rich. My dad all about me getting some life experiences..." she rolls her eyes. "... Master Roshi and Oolong every place I go and leaving their porn everywhere... Goten, if Bulma hadn't offered this job to me, I think I probably would've swam away." I've been to the Kame House enough times to know she's telling me more truth than sarcasm here. "You guys are lucky - you both know where you're going with your lives and are out there doing something." 

"Hey, that may be true for Trunks, but look at me - I sleep until lunch, I don't have a job, I never pay bills. I don't think I'm exactly the poster boy for Responsibility here either. And it's not like Trunks even _remotely_ enjoys what he's doing - he hates it," I remind her, propping my elbow on the table to lean in closer, giving her opposite hand a light squeeze. "You're not the only one who feels lost, Marron. We all sometimes feel like we're stuck in situations that can't go anywhere." 

The eyes looking back at me tell me it's been a long time since she's talked to someone who's been on the same wavelength. "Thanks." 

Despite Marron's absence for the latter part of my life, we've still managed to catch up on everything in just a matter of hours. As we talk, I am reminded of how fortunate Trunks and I have been to have each other. I can't imagine what it must have been like to live so far away from people my own age - someone that can relate to you on your own level. _I've_ always had Trunks, but Marron hasn't had anyone. The last time I remember even being around was back when I lived at home and Krillen would bring her with him to the mainland to visit. 

That was years ago though, and honestly with everything that has gone on, I forgot about her living on that island in isolation all this time. Trunks and I were her only friends growing up, considering she was home schooled. But now that she's joined the world at large and I'm seeing what isolation has done to her confidence over the years, I can see just how much it means to her to be able to look at a familiar face for a change, no matter how far we've grown apart before today. I think I'm also starting to see how lonely she really is. 

"You know, Marron, why don't you stay with me and Trunks until you get a place of your own? It's got to be driving you insane living there with Bulma and Vegeta, and playing big sister to Bra all the time. We've gotta get you out of there." 

"Oh, I couldn't..." Her eyes wander down to her lap, perhaps embarrassed by my forwardness. 

"Really! Our place is more than big enough. The loft bed can be all yours." My Son charm is slowly winning her over. "And I know Trunks will totally agree with me on this one. Why do you think he moved out in the first place." I finally get her to crack a smile. "Please, stay with us and save yourself from hell." 

Marron looks back up to me with a shy smile, and silently tells me that she accepts the offer. 

Now I'm finding myself more and more excited that I'm going to get the chance to spend time with her on a regular basis. Especially since we're really hitting it off like this. I want her to feel comfortable around me, but it's hard not to make it seem like I'm coming on too strong and being a hopelessly pathetic flirt in front of her. This is the _last_ thing she needs at this point. I'm sure that city life, corporate life, and even _adult life_ in general is probably freaking her out right now, so I have to force myself to not act on the many thoughts flooding my mind right now. And to also ignore the fact that she's gotten really, _really_ hot. 

Shit. 

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:: **please review** :: 


	8. PART FOUR continued

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion 

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**~** PART FOUR (continued) **~**

  
  


"Good evening, Mr. Briefs. Can I help you with your bags?" the doorman to our building offers, making the usual small talk when I want nothing more than to just fly up to my apartment window instead of having to check in like this. I appreciate the security that this apartment complex offers, even though it's completely useless when they have two Saiyans living in the building. But it's not like anyone knows that. 

"No thanks. I think I got it," I sigh with a slightly sarcastic smile, edging my way through the door with my briefcase in one hand and two heavy, overstuffed file boxes tucked under each arm. Our doorman's got to be pushing eighty yeas old - I'd like to see him try and carry this shit. 

As soon as I get to the elevator, I set the boxes down and dig in my pockets for the keys that allow access to my floor. My mind is pretty one tracked right now, so it takes me a second to realize that the doorman has already punched in the code from the front desk for me, so I don't need the key this time. Is it that obvious I'm not paying attention? 

I hope Goten didn't eat dinner already. I'm starved! I'm also exhausted, but unless Goten has figured out how to use the kitchen effectively in   
the past twelve hours, I can guarantee our food will be coming to us tonight instead. 

I get up to our floor and before I even open the elevator door, I can hear music and laughing from the other side. _A girl_? Who... 

The second I unhook the steel door and slide it open, I catch Goten walking through the kitchen into the living room area, two full wine glasses in his hands and a smile across his face that tells me these haven't been the first ones poured tonight. He stops short once he realizes I've entered the room. 

"I see I'm not the only one in a daze," I bite out for some reason, like I expect him to be waiting around for me to come home before he starts having fun. Like usual. 

"Oh, hey!" he says surprisingly, grinning ear to ear. It's been a while since I've seen Goten this excited about anything. "Dude, you are_ never_ going to believe who I found today!" 

The sideways glance I'm giving him is perhaps coming off as a little skeptical, but the idea of Goten having brought home a girl is more than unbelievable. I look over his shoulder to see a hot little blonde turned away and screwing with the stereo, shoes kicked off, running her hands leisurely through her hair. 

Lights dimmed. Soft music. Empty bottle of wine on the counter. I'm not an idiot. 

But before I'm able to snap to my next reaction of either being pissed off for being forgotten about, or congratulating him for hooking up, she spins around at the delayed reaction from my voice. Once I get a look at who it is, I drop all previous speculation as the person I thought last to see is now in my living room - I recognize her immediately. 

"_Marron_?! Holy shit! What are you doing here?!" 

"Trunks! Oh my god!" she squeals, running up to me and throwing her arms around my neck. "We've been talking about you all day! I was wondering when you would be coming home! It's so good to see you!" 

I try not to look worried. "Oh, you've been talking about me all day, have you?" My eyes slowly turn to my younger half, now sporting a strange version of the smile he had on his face just seconds ago. "I can't _imagine _what you two have been saying about me? Nothing bad, I hope." My focus stays glued to Goten as she smothers me with hugs, trying to read him to tell whether or not he's been using his better judgment to not spill anything incriminating about us. 

"No silly," she laughs as she breaks away, putting equal distance between the three of us, giving me the once-over. "It's been so long since I've seen you! I've missed you guys so much since the last time. Just look at you, all business-like," she says referring to my suit and briefcase. "You've changed so much!" 

I completely forget about my stuff still being in the elevator until Goten edges past me to get it, remarking out loud, "Trust me, Marron, not as much as you. Last time we saw you, you were, what?_ Eleven_?" he teases, doing nothing but making her blush as she tucks a chunk of her long blonde hair behind her ear, flashing that beautiful smile of hers. 

My initial shock begins to wear off and it starts to sink in. This beautiful young woman in front of me - this gorgeous, sexy woman - is _fucking Marron_?! "This... is certainly a surprise! What brings you out here anyway?" 

"Well," she exchanges a mischievous smile with Goten. "Your mom offered me a job at Capsule Corporation, and my very first day in the office..." she stops herself, suddenly realizing that I still haven't really made it through the door yet. "Why don't you have a glass of wine with us and relax with us. It's kinda a long story." 

"Sounds good. Just give me a few minutes so I can change out of these clothes and get comfortable. Don't start without me," I tell her with a wink, walking backwards to the bedroom area behind the wall. I'm actually excited to see her again. 

But funny how I can have someone working on my own floor and not even notice it until Goten brings her home. It just goes to show how little I care about what goes on at that place at all. But I wish I had gotten the chance to introduce myself in the office first so I would have at least been able to impress her with the whole Boss thing. At least once. Dende knows what kind of reputation Goten's been giving me all day? Especially if he's trying to score here. Judging by the scene I walked into when I got home, I have to assume that I have a challenger. 

_May the best man win, my friend._   
  
  


After I quickly change out of my clothes into my deliberately-dressed-down look of ripped jeans and a shrunken tee-shirt - silently cursing myself that I didn't have at least one clean pair of pants to wear - I wash up in the bathroom and put on some of my favorite cologne, fixing my hair so a few select strands of hair hang carelessly in my eyes. Chicks seem to like that for some reason. I give myself a last once-over before going back out there and smile in the mirror. 

Time to turn on my undefeated charm. 

I casually walk out into the living room and sit myself on the couch on the opposite side of Marron, taking the glass of wine Goten poured for me while I was getting changed. It takes less than a second for the scent of my cologne to get her attention and she turns her back on Goten's conversation to face me completely. I don't hesitate to use it to my advantage. 

I ask all about her position at the company - where she wants to go with it, how my mom gave her the job. Conveniently cock-blocking my competition out of the conversation with fancy business talk he can't relate to. I feel bad for a second about it, but_ someone's _gonna get laid tonight and Dende knows Goten won't do it. It doesn't take long for me to gracefully slide the conversation into a more personal route, which prompts my other half into weaseling his way into the mix at the opportunity of a familiar topic. He's proving to be more forward than usual and I'm liking the challenge for a change. 

"Marron's going to be staying with us for a while," he blurts out in the pause as I take a sip of my wine, but I've already been one step ahead of him - I saw her bags the second I walked in the door which is a dead give away that the decision has already been made without me. "At least until she finds a place in the City. What do you say? I think it's going to rock!" he smiles to her, trying to out-charm me with the buddy-buddy thing by making it sound like they've been friends for years. Regardless though, I process the idea and try as best as I can to hide the same variety of smile Goten had on his face when I got here. 

Hot chick? _Living with us_? Of course I'm okay with this! 

I act as nonchalant to hide my enthusiasm. "It's fine with me! Our place is your place, Marron. You can stay as long as you want, as far as I'm concerned." 

She lights up and throws her arms around me again, proceeding to thank us profusely for taking her in. Granted I can completely understand what it's like to be around my mom twenty-four seven, so I'm sure she'll have a much better time living with the two of us. I know _I _will. 

I hug her back and exchange a smug glance over her shoulder with Goten as I smooth my hand over her back, planting a big kiss on her cheek as I stare him down, now clearly getting a nasty look in return. Not that I blame him though. After all, I am the one getting all the physical attention right now. Hey, I just know how to get the girl. Goten's pick-up lines are better at getting my little sister, not that I'd ever actually let him if he even wanted to. Marron can throw herself at me all she wants. 

But she has gotten pretty hot since the last time we've seen her, and since neither one of us has seen her in so long, it more than qualifies her as fair game now. Hell, I don't even remember when the last time we hung out with her was. She certainly didn'tlook like _this_ back then, that's for sure! From the looks of my welcome home tonight, she's definitely gotten a whole lot more outgoing over the years from being Krillin's shy eleven-year-old daughter who would barely say hello. 

I rub it in a little deeper by tickling her side, getting her to giggle uncontrollably as she pretends to fight me back, squealing as she punches my shoulder and kneels on my lap. I don't even have to look over to see Goten glaring at me. I can feel it.   
  
  


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I would like to think sometimes that Trunks isn't the player that everyone tells me he is. But between the half a dozen office interns and secretaries that call this apartment every month, or flirting endlessly with every female we come in contact with, I'm starting to believe the rumors are true. My best friend is a playboy, and what he's doing with Marron right now is no exception. 

The only reason he's even doing this is because I'm 'competing' with him on some level. Like it always is between us with a girl. Sometimes I win. More often he wins. And granted Marron_ is _gorgeous, and funny, and smart, but she's different then the usual meat Trunks and me fight over. He doesn't know what I know about her yet - that she's freaking out from being on her own for the first time, her new job, new responsibilities and new city to get used to all at once. She really needs someone to be there with her for all of that, but as usual, Trunks is going to treat her like she's just another girl he won't call tomorrow morning and break her heart. That's all he ever does with the girls he fucks - fights me for their attention and plays them until he comes. I won't let him do this to Marron. We know her. 

_I know her._

"Excuse us, Marron," I rudely interrupt his act, pulling him off the couch by the arm and to the other end of the apartment, far out of range from her hearing us over the music. I stop behind a cut out piece of wall near the bedroom area, clenching my teeth to keep my tone as low as I can. The alcohol consumption between us is not going to help. 

"Could you cut this shit out, Trunks? I don't want you scaring her off like this!" 

He doesn't take me seriously. "Scaring her off? Chibi, I seriously doubt she's scared at this point." He laughs under his breath. "Why? Because she's all over me instead of you? If you want to get laid so bad, then you should grow some balls and fight for her." 

He's an asshole. 

"I don't plan on hurting her, _Trunks_! She isn't a contest!" I narrow my eyes at him sharply as I step in closer. "I know her. _Okay_? She's not like that." 

He changes his tone to the one he usually reserves when he wants to make me sound like a little kid. "Just because you talked with her for an afternoon doesn't mean you know her more than I do, _Chibi_. You were laying it on just as thick before I got home, so don't act like I don't know what your intentions are, too." His overconfidence is making me more pissed off than I want to be about this. "She didn't come over to some guy's apartment, get all drunk and friendly just to have you make best friends with her like you do with every other girl you meet. She's probably counting on having sex tonight." 

"Fuck you, Trunks. At least I don't use girls as just another way to get myself off." I remind myself to keep my voice down and take a deep breath to calm my rising anger towards my best friend. I didn't want this to turn into a fight when I pulled him aside. "I just know she's not that type of girl. You have to believe me on this." 

"Oh yea? See for yourself..." He leans me over with him to see past the wall, just catching her as she starts peeling off her tee-shirt to reveal a skin tight little strappy tank top underneath. Bra not included. "She's probably even more hard up than you are right now from being trapped on that island this whole time. But I think she's already decided who she wants to be with tonight, so if you'll excuse me..." 

He's right. I grab his shoulders before he gets anywhere and push him back against the wall to stay out of view. His ice blue eyes cut into me, but I try to level the playing field before we go back to that couch. "You're not playing fair." 

"Then what would be fair? To take turns? To ask her to fuck us both? To..." 

We stare at each other blankly, and hesitate for a moment at the thought. Of all times I've been able to read what Trunks is thinking, this is not one of those times. "What do you mean by _both_?" I know how he thinks, and this can no way be an innocent thought running through his head. 

"Well," he blinks for a second, seeing how I don't think he was conscious of it when he said it, but now that it's out in the open... "Let's just say that if you're really interested here - then don't let me stop you. But I'm not stopping either. However, if we play this situation right..." he leans in to whisper to me, so close he brushes his lips against my ear, "... then maybe she'll want us both." 

The sound of my thick swallow is deafening, but the expression on Trunks' face is priceless. I _really_ can't imagine Marron being okay with something like this, but I can't help fantasizing at the very thought of sharing anyone in that way with Trunks. 

The situation has suddenly changed. Completely. 

"B-both of us? At... _the same time_?" I croak out with an obvious crack in my voice. It takes every ounce of control I have to keep a straight face. We exchange the same look in our eyes, and from the evil smile across his face, I know I'm not the only one that needs to get rid of a hard on before we go back out there to actually try this. I just hope Marron's ready for what we're about to dish out. This is going to get intense. 

"I really don't want to hurt her, Trunks. Don't take this too far if she doesn't want to do this. You got it?" 

His voice still has the same deep rasp to it, not helping my current situation in the slightest. "But it'll be a once in a lifetime opportunity if she does, huh?" he taunts as he pokes me in the ribs, just adding to the mental picture already in my head. My hands tighten into fists and I don't even know why. But it's times like this that I'm reminded of what kind of influence Trunks Briefs has had on my sex drive over the years. And how I will be forever in his debt if he can actually get this to work. 

"Just follow my lead and keep your cool." 

As much as I still feel like a total dick for really,_ really_ wanting this to happen, I really do hope that it's not a mistake to try.   
  
  


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"I feel so comfortable around you guys. Thank you so much again for letting me stay here." 

"Like we said Mar, you can stay here as long as you want," Goten softly says to her as he finishes off the third bottle of wine in her glass, not quite filling it to the top. It's not like we need any more anyway - I think we're all feeling a little warm at this point. 

He sets the empty bottle on the coffee table and sits back in his spot beside her, propping his elbow up on the back of the couch to rest his head in the palm of his hand. Looking down to her thigh with half lidded eyes, he traces lazy circles with the tips of his fingers, breaking the first ice for actual contact after we've been playing our cards perfectly for over an hour. I somehow don't even think she notices, but just the sight of Goten touching her is making my body heat rise, and I gulp down the rest of my own glass in one shot before adjusting my position on the couch to make a move of my own. 

"My parents would probably kill me if they found out I was getting drunk with you guys, you know," she says through a sleepy smile, words slightly undone from the effects of the wine. 

I slowly take the glass from her hand. "I think we've all had enough for one night, what do you say?" I jokingly laugh under my breath, setting both of ours down on the end table behind me. "We don't want your father to come after us if he ever found out we got his little girl drunk, now do we?" 

She rolls her eyes. "I don't care what my dad thinks. He still thinks I'm that little kid that does nothing wrong and that would never do a thing I'm not supposed to. I'm almost nineteen, you know. I'm not a little girl anymore!" 

"Oh, I _know _you're not a little girl anymore," Goten murmurs from beside her, now making his traces bigger and more deliberate on her leg, lowering his head slightly towards her shoulder. She still doesn't pick up on his lead. 

"We both know," I correct him as I smooth the backs of my fingers to the side of her cheek, looking at her with clear intentions as to not give her any mixed signals, but playing her like a piano nonetheless. I know what I'm doing. 

Slowly. _Slowly_. 

Her eyes gradually widen at my advance, and I think she's just now noticing that we've both been touching her in a much different way than any other time before now. Her focus casts down to my hand, then to Goten's on her lap. I can sense she's getting nervous and she holds her breath in for a second as her body heat rises. 

I lean into her cautiously, delicately smelling the skin on her neck, slightly touching the tip of my nose to her shoulder. My opposite hand slides around to the other side of her face and brushes over her jaw line, making her body stiffen a little, but I make her face my direction. She's like putty in my hands. 

"We wouldn't do anything to make you feel like a little girl, Marron. We just want you to feel comfortable." I lightly kiss her neck, barely touching her at all. My deepened voice vibrating throughout the hot air suspended between us. "You feel comfortable around us. Right?" 

She weakly responds to my question that's already been answered for her. Still not objecting to what we're doing. "I...uh, I do... feel comfortable." She's barely audible. "T-Trunks, I..." 

"You're... so beautiful, and we just want to make you feel special," I continue breathing on her neck, working my way higher to tenderly sucking on her ear lobe that elicits a sigh from the faintest touch of my tongue. I can feel Goten's hand slink around her waist, moving even slower than I've been as he gently kisses her bare shoulder exposed from the wicked little tank top that I soon hope will wind up on the floor. 

"I-I don't know, guys..." 

"Trunks and I... we care a lot about you," Goten purrs in a low heat, carelessly kissing her jaw and the tips of my fingers that are in his way. I can barely contain myself, yet for some reason, I don't move my hand away. He keeps sliding his hand past her until he reaches up to my forearm and carefully lowers my hand from her face, letting his lips drag across my middle finger as he places my hand on her leg. 

_Fuck, why did I drink so much?_

I open my eyes and back up to not smother her, and look over to see just as Goten tilts her head back to him, making eye contact with me the split second before he slips his eyes closed. "We wouldn't do anything you wouldn't want us to. Just... relax," he tells her as he holds her face and presses his soft, moist lips to hers, kissing her deeply and sighing on her mouth just enough to make her melt. 

It occurs to me that I have never seen my best friend kiss anyone before - at least not two inches from my face like this - but it's making me hotter than I could have ever possibly imagined. Just the two of them, breathing heavier, deepening the kiss, breaking away ever so slightly to give the faintest glimpse of their tongues intertwining with each other's... I use all that's left of my drunken will power to stay in control of my own body, but this is, by far, the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen. I am so ready to do this, and by Marron's tiny little whimper under Goten's kiss, I think we've pretty much been given the go. 

Before I let another second pass by that I would just kick myself for tomorrow, I edge my nose in between them, running my hand up through the back of Goten's hair. He knows what I want to do and breaks away to give me a turn. Marron instantly becomes pliant to the change, and I close my eyes, gently crushing my lips to Marron's and experiencing the combined taste of both her and Goten for the first time. But it's times like this - when I'm completely aroused and heated - that my better judgement goes right out the fucking window. 

Perhaps it's because we're so fucked up. Maybe it's the fact that I haven't been laid in six months. Or the thrill of what kind of pleasure we'll be experiencing by the time this night is over, but without much of a warning, I feel something warm and wet on the nape of my neck. Sucking gently. Grazing his teeth against my skin, and snapping my control like a rubber band stretched too tight. _I can't take it!_

My grip automatically tightens around Marron and the ache in my body is too much to hold back. I want to rip our clothes off right now and fuck them both blind and to hell with what they think of me in the morning! I don't care anymore. I _need _this. I...   
  
  


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"No, wait! S-stop! Please..." 

My eyes snap open and I flinch back at the sound of her voice. What happened? 

"Trunks, I don't- wait..." she whimpers, pushing against his chest to back him off. It takes him a second to respond. "I don't think I want to do this." 

"Huh? Wh-" He slowly comes back to reality, confused at the hold up. I don't wait for him to realize that we did exactly what I didn't want us to do from the beginning. We took it too far, and now she's scared to pieces. I push Trunks back against the couch for his lack of reaction to give her space. 

"Oh, god, Marron. I'm... shit, I'm so sorry. We didn't..." I'm never going to be able to talk our way out of this. "I don't know what we were thinking? We didn't mean to..." 

She doesn't wait for me to finish and bolts up off the couch once she's free, fixing her shirt that's been pushed up by one of us during everything to expose her bare stomach. She's embarrassed. "I wasn't trying to lead you guys on," her voice shakes, not looking either of us in the eye. 

So this is what it's like to feel like an asshole. 

Trunks slumps in the couch and pushes his bangs away from his face in defeat, forcing himself to sound sympathetic to make it seem like he isn't disappointed that she's not going to go through with it. "We're sorry, Marron. I must have drunk too much. I didn't mean to do that. We don't want you to be freaked out." His act doesn't fool me. I know he's dying, but I'm glad he's using his head here and doing the right thing instead of pushing the issue. "Please believe me. We don't want you to be upset with us." 

She folds her arms, tensing her shoulders noticeably as she meeks out a reply. "Okay." She continues to stare at the ground, feeling like a child again, I'm sure. "I'm just not... I'm not like that. I'm sorry. It's too much." 

I take a big risk and get up to speak to her, considering how we just violated her feelings completely by just assuming she'd cater to our planned out fantasies. I do everything I can to sound as genuine as possible, but she steps back to keep her distance, not sure of what to do or say. Maybe she's afraid? 

"Don't be sorry, Mar. It's our fault for taking advantage of you." 

She finally looks up to Trunks, then to me, and the gloss of tears in her eyes makes me feel worse than before. 

I swallow hard. "Please don't be upset. This is our fault," I add. "We really do want you to stay and feel comfortable here. I'm... I'm sorry things got so out of hand like that." I want to say more, but the moment is almost too awkward. "I promise, it won't happen again." 

"It's okay." Her voice is less than convincing. "I-I think... I'm just going to go to bed. Good night, guys," she says softly, quickly making her way up the spiral staircase to the upstairs loft where she started unpacking her things earlier before Trunks came home. 

I watch her get to the top and turn off the lights, leaving me with this awful sick feeling in my stomach from doing something so horrible to someone who didn't deserve it at all! I don't know who I've let down the most from this - Marron, or myself. 

It's not until I turn around to look at the face staring back at me, that I think maybe I've let someone else down, too. But maybe for a different reason than the one probably crying upstairs by now. 

Maybe it's because of something I never should have done, and I'm not exactly sure why I even did in the first place.   


  


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:: **_to be continued _**:: **please review** :: 


	9. PART FOUR concluded

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion

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**~** PART FOUR (concluded) **~**

  
  
  
  


I'm an asshole. I've got to learn not to drink so much, since I always seem to regret having done something dumb the next morning. I had hoped when I fell into bed last night, feeling like the world's biggest fuck-up for thinking with my dick instead of my head, I would feel better in the morning and have some perspective on what happened between us last night. 

Or should I say the_ three_ of us last night? 

No such luck. I woke up still feeling like an asshole and I can't say that I like it. Can't say I like how my head is pounding like a jackhammer right now either.   
  
  


As soon as I got dressed into the first thing I see, I quietly make my way into the kitchen, noticing that nothing has been touched or cleaned up from the night before - wine glasses and empty bottles still on the coffee table, shoes kicked off in the middle of the floor, the stink of jerk in the air. The only sound left in this entire apartment is the faint hum of the refrigerator compressor kicking on, and some heavy breathing from Goten's tangled form sleeping with the side of his face pressed into the cushions of the couch. I guess he decided to sleep out here last night and not up in the loft across from Marron. _Smart move_. 

I really wish things had gone differently last night, not making a total disaster of everything with my fucking brilliant idea, and assuming that a girl like Marron would just submit to our request to let us fuck her at the same time. Both of us. Doing what most guys could only dream about or watch in a porno. Ripping our clothes off and pressing our hard bodies into her, feeling him push inside of her as I flex my arms around... 

_Nnnn_. 

To make matters worse, I could just tell by Goten's face last night, after Marron left for bed, that he was disappointed with me. Or maybe angry? I'm not even sure what was going on with the look he gave me, but I didn't have time to think about it for too long. I did what anyone would have done in that position - I went to bed and tried to forget about the whole thing ever happening before anything could. 

Why did we have to drink so damn much? That's why all of this happened! Why couldn't I control myself from getting so excited and just take it easy? Maybe things would have turned out like they usually do, since I'm normally pretty relaxed when it's just me and Goten getting drunk and fucking around and doing whatever. This time shouldn't have been any different, but it was. Somehow. 

I suddenly realize that I've been staring open-mouthed at my best friend asleep on the couch now for longer than I should be. Watching his chest rise and fall with every breath. His right arm draped across his stomach as the other one resting heavy on the floor. His face looks so innocent when he sleeps, just like when he was a kid - like he could wake at any moment without a care in the world, other than finding something to eat for breakfast. But to be honest, I don't really want him to get up yet, at least not until I think of something to say for making things so awkward. I can't help but to think that things are going to be really different now for some reason... especially if he wasn't quite as drunk last night as I thought he was. 

For the second time in my life, things have gotten fucked up between me and my best friend because we've done stupid shit we never should have, only this time we had a spectator. 

I hold the deep breath in my lungs and try to scope the worst possible outcome of all this in my head. But as soon as I look away and head into the kitchen area, I can already hear him shifting around, no doubt uncomfortable from trying to fit his long frame on such a narrow couch. Maybe I should have offered him my bed to crash in last night? 

No, that would have been worse than my first idea. 

I pretend not to notice and continue to take out a bowl from the cabinet, all though by the groan of his stretch, I know for sure that he's awake now. Makes me wonder if he knew I was looking at him that whole time? I should say something. Something to make it sound like I've forgotten about everything and it's just a regular, normal Saturday morning. 

"Do you want any break-" The click of the bathroom door cuts me off before I can get a word in. Looks like he's avoiding it, too. 

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_C'mon, it's stupid to be acting like this. It was so fast, he probably didn't even notice... but what if he did?_

_What if he's pissed? Or freaked out?_

_Or is planning to tear me a new one the second I walk out of this door?_

_What was I fucking thinking?!?!_

I can feel the thoughts in my head crackle as I splash ice cold water on my face, trying to flush the hang-over out of my body and rationalize my completely fucked up behavior from last night's failed attempt at living out an unrealistic fantasy. The taste of stale wine in my mouth reminds me how dehydrated I am from so much alcohol, and the pounding in my head reminds me that I am never going to do any of this again._ Ever_. I'm not listening to Trunks, I'm not bringing home girls, I am certainly never having another drink, and I'm not opening my mouth ever, ever again. 

Just how do I get myself into shit like this anyway? It's pretty much a given that I've screwed things up with Marron beyond all repair, since Dende knows she'll never want to speak to me again after what happened, much less live here, but I should be planning to grovel on my hands and knees and try and take everything back. For making her feel like a cheap whore while me and Trunks took advantage of her like we did, instead thinking about her feelings for a second and make her feel comfortable in her new situation. 

But for some reason, I can't get my mind off of the bigger problems waiting for me in the other room. Waiting for me to finish washing up so he can corner me at the kitchen table and ask me a million questions I don't have answers for any more than he does. A problem I'm going to have to look in the face and explain to why I damn near gave a hickey to. I can't even _imagine_ when I'll hear the end of this. 

I strain to hear the refrigerator open and close. Some fumbling with silverware. Shake of a cereal box? 

He's waiting for me to come out of the bathroom, but I'm dreading going out there. What am I going to say? Should I really pretend nothing happened? I knew I should have gotten a better look at his face when I woke up before I holed myself up here, but I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of having to explain what happened in my drunken stupor. Because that is what is was - a simple act of alcohol influence. Yeah. Both the agreeing to the world's stupidest plan and me... _oh, fuck_. 

I twist the faucet off and run my hands through my hair with the extra water on my hands, taking a deep breath to focus the erratic heartbeat from pounding out of my chest. _Gather your thoughts, Goten_. But a quick look in the mirror before I head out turns into a long, hard stare into black eyes I don't think I recognize anymore. To be perfectly honest, I don't know what I'm seeing here. Have I changed that much lately? I mean, I still look the same - I'm still Goten - but something is different about everything. I don't know whether to be disgusted with myself, or ashamed. 

Or worried? 

I clear my head and take a deep breath, and slowly open the door with the most extreme caution, full knowing that Trunks is probably waiting for me on the other side to barrage me with uncomfortable questions about my actions last night. But to my complete surprise, I'm wrong. 

Already dressed out of his pajamas and back into the same clothes from last night, save a clean tee-shirt from who-knows-where, I find him standing at the counter with his back faced to me, arms crossed, looking down to the empty bowl and cereal boxes in front of him like it's the most interesting thing in the room. His shoulders tense for a moment before he reaches up to open the cupboard. 

He's uncomfortable? Please tell me he wants to avoid this as much as I do. 

I force my legs to walk towards the kitchen, doing everything humanly possible to act cool about being in the same room with him as I take a seat on one of the bar stools around the island. Granted he hasn't even turned around to face me yet, but I'm somehow don't think that selecting a box of cereal is all that complicated for him to be staring in the cabinet for so long like he is. _Avoid it_. _That's right, it never happened_. 

But just as I work up enough nerve to blurt out something as far away from the subject as I possibly can, another element enters the room to make it ten times worse than it already was. I almost choke on my swallow. "Hey, Marron," I manage crack out under my breath, sounding as pathetic as I feel. "Sleep well?" Before the question even leaves my mouth, I'm already kicking myself for asking. 

She doesn't need to answer - the silent shrug screams that she didn't. 

Slumping back in my chair with all my attention absorbed into anything that's in eyesight, I silently hold my breath as she slowly sits down next to me, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear and looking down to her lap. She seems even more timid than when I first saw her yesterday afternoon - not the Marron that opened up and finally felt like herself. 

A full minute goes by of waiting for the inevitable. 

Her words are quick and to the point, but she avoids eye contact nonetheless. "Why didn't you guys tell me?" 

It's enough to finally make Trunks turn around from the cereal choices. "Tell you what?" His voice is obviously suspicious at the question, but manages keep his tone under control. I_ should_ stop this discussion before it starts, but once I look up to see the odd look he's giving me, I decide to keep my mouth shut - I actually want to hear his response to this, too. 

"That... _you know_... the two of you..." 

"The two of us _what_, Marron?" he snaps, now a lot harsher than before. 

Here we go. 

She hesitates before continuing, but I can tell where she's going with this. From past experiences alone, I know Trunks is going to fly off the handle on her like everyone else that seems to want to make our private lives their business, even if they're always completely wrong about us. I've seen him do it to his secretary, his sister, the flavor of the week, even his mother. I don't want him to do it to Marron, but for whatever reason, I let it continue like a train wreck waiting to happen. 

She blushes. "That you two are... together... like_ involved_ with each other. But you don't have to worry - I won't tell any-" 

She nearly jumps from her chair as he slams the cabinet door closed beside his head, glaring at her with a clenched jaw. I know him too well not to know that he's trying really hard to suppress his temper so that he doesn't tear into her - the temper reserved almost exclusively for people who think we're something we're not. His hands grip the edge of the counter hard enough so that it cracks from the force. His anger heats the room. 

_Don't do this_._ Not to her!_

"I-I mean..." her voice shakes in panic as she tries to explain her accusation. "I know that... you t-two are close and everything... I mean, everybody knows that you've always had that bond between the two of you that-" She stops short with a sharp breath. 

To my surprise, and without saying anything in our defense, he pushes off from where he was leaning and snatches his keys off the counter. No argument. No screaming. No nothing. Just a quick, cold glare in my direction as he walks over to the door, slides the heavy steel open with one jerk, and slams it closed unnecessarily hard behind him as he storms out. Leaving me to explain whatever it is I have to explain to the confused, and probably scared shitless girl sitting next to me. 

I focus back down to an empty glass in front of me, waiting for the reaction to his outburst to come. Neither of us say anything, all though I don't make any attempt to run after him either. I'm not stupid - I know he needs time to cool off before I go out to find him. Besides, I think there's explaining to do here. 

"I guess you're going to ask me what that was all about," I say idly, still not looking away from the glass. "Am I right?" 

There's a long silence again before I hear the weakest little response. "I... d-don't understand." 

She's not the only one. 

I slowly turn my head to look beside me and her eyes are already fat with tears that are just waiting to fall, holding on to fistfuls of her pajama pants in some desperate attempt not to cry in front of me. Suddenly, my chest feels heavy at the sight of what exactly we've done to her. For everything - for taking advantage of her, embarrassing her, for confusing her, and now scaring her enough so that she'll probably want to go home and never talk to either of us again. 

I don't want that to happen. 

"Marron," I think for a second of what I about to do. "I think I should tell you some things I left out yesterday, but you have to promise you'll never repeat it to anyone." I swivel my chair to face her and lean in closer, trying not to make this sound as bad as I know it will. "..._especially_ not to Trunks." 

Her eyes widen at my implied tone, and I decide to tell her everything. Well, _almost _everything.   
  
  


Over the next hour and a half, I tell her nearly all there is to tell about me and Trunks. About growing up and living together. The real reason he moved out of Capsule Corporation. Even why I decided not to go away to college despite my mother's wishes, just so I wouldn't have to be so far away from him anymore. It sounds so weird hearing it all out loud for the first time, even though nothing I tell her isn't the absolute truth. But as much as I try to explain what our situation exactly is, I still can't explain why I did what I did last night, or why Trunks bolted the second she jumped to the wrong conclusion. I mean, when you break it down to actual facts, I guess things can be a little misleading between us, and that's not even counting half of the stuff we do with each other that_ nobody_ is ever going to find out about! It makes being careful with my words extremely critical to my case. 

"I think it's just that I really need him, Marron. It's the only way I can describe it. I need him in my life and...I don't think I exist without him. He keeps my life together and... complete." I lose myself in my thoughts the more I contemplate it. "It's just that we've been friends for so long... we're just comfortable with each other on different levels than most people are, I guess. There isn't any way to explain it other than Trunks is everything to me. He always has been." 

Saying all this out loud is making me begin to wonder when exactly this need became so strong. 

As usual, her smile is warm and genuine. I'd trust her with anything. "I promise, I won't ever tell anyone. Your secrets are safe with me, but I think it's awesome that the two of you are so close," she tells me, honestly in awe of our situation that has - up to now - gotten nothing but dirty looks and a disapproving eye. Her warm smile slowly fades inward, no doubt thinking of the comparison to her own life. "I never had anyone to connect with like that. Not like the two of you do." She hugs her knees into her chest. "You're really lucky to have each other." 

I reach out to take her hands, and notice how soft her skin feels in comparison to my calloused palms. A lifetime of training and work compared to this smooth, untouched beauty that some incredibly lucky man has yet to find. "You have us, Marron. We care a lot about you, and I know that Trunks was mad before, but he'll forget all about it once I talk to him." I lower my voice, looking right into her eyes. "I _want _you to stay with us here." 

There's still something else that needs to be said. 

"And about last night... I didn't, I- I mean we..." 

She stops me from continuing. "It's okay, Goten. I'm... I'm just not ready for that. I'm sorry I panicked. It's not that I don't appreciate the attention - because I do - but..." she forces a tiny smile under a nervous laugh to make light of the situation, "... something like_ that_... I think I'm just a one-guy-type of girl." 

I crack a smile with her and draw her into my arms without a second thought, holding her tightly as she wraps her arms around my back and drops all the tension she's been holding since last night. I care about her so much now and I wouldn't want anything to happen that would jeopardize the connection between us. I, more than anyone, can understand how lonely it feels being in this city sometimes, trying to make it on your own and prove that you're capable of making something of yourself. To not be able to admit that you need someone more than you should, and to live everyday without the most basic feelings that you don't know how much longer you can live without. Doing something desperate and irrational to satisfy it the minute you stop thinking. Praying you didn't take it too far. 

"I'm going to make all of this up to you, Marron," I whisper in her hair as I kiss the side of her head, holding her protectively to my chest. "I don't exactly know how, but I will. I promise. I will always be here to take care of you." 

Warm tears soak through my shirt, but I know she doesn't want me to know that she's crying. Gently, I smooth my hands over her back and shoulders, snuggling her tiny frame into mine, and now realize that above anything else, I want her to be happy. I tilt her head up to look at me, cheeks stained with tears from crystal blue eyes as beautiful as Trunks'. Suddenly, I realize what is most important. 

"You gonna stay with us?" 

"Yeah. I think so."   
  
  


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Cool, crisp wind from over the mountains blows my hair into my eyes as the grass on the empty field below ripples in neat waves. Within the hour, the sun will be covered by those gray clouds over the hills, already moist with the smell of rain that wants to fall. I don't get out here much anymore. I can't even remember the last time I've gotten out of the city to breath clean air. Fresh grass. Old trees. No city. No problems. No worries. I used to come out here all the time with Goten when we were younger. After sparring in the woods to watch the sunset, sitting on the edge of this cliff and falling asleep in the sun. 

Before I became a slave to a company I couldn't give a fuck about. 

Life used to be simple, without all of the bullshit that I have to go through everyday to get even two seconds to relax and enjoy what's left of my life. I miss training and practicing with him. Learning new things and testing our limits to become what we're supposed to be. To remember what it's like to be a Saiyan and to be proud at having mastery of my weapon, not be some guy who has to please everyone but me and the person I care about the most. 

I want my old life back. 

I'm so zoned out with feeling sorry for myself, I don't notice him until he sits down on the patch of grass with me, wrapping his arms around his knees like I am doing right now. Neither of us say a word, but I know what he's thinking. I'm sure he can say the same. Sometimes, you can just feel someone's thoughts before they say them, or at least I can with Goten. We sit for a while before I can feel him getting ready to ask. 

I beat him to it. "I don't want to talk about it." 

He doesn't reply, but I feel the need to explain - to justify the temper unleashed in our kitchen for what probably seems like no rational reason. 

"I... I can't go through all this with someone else, Chibi. I can't. I'm tired of being judged by people who won't get it." 

"Then what do you want me to do?" he asks in monotone, like we've done this too many times before. "It's just how people see us, Trunks. I can't stop that. And I don't care anymore what everyone thinks about us. Especially Marron." He waits for my reaction, but I don't give him one. "You shouldn't either. It's how we are." 

Again, there's that long pause. 

"Doesn't it bother you that people think we're bonded?" I ask flatly. 

"What are you talking about?" 

I roll my eyes at the fact that he's acting like he doesn't know what I mean. I normally forget that his dad isn't exactly up on his heritage, but Dende, he has to know what I'm talking about here. "_Bonded_, Goten. That people think that we've bonded to each other." 

He turns to face me with that blank stare of his, but perhaps he really doesn't know. "I... have no idea what you're trying to say. Explain." 

I hunch my shoulders over and take a deep breath, not sure whether I'm more embarrassed that I have to explain this to my twenty-four-year-old friend, or annoyed that he truly doesn't even know. "That we've bonded to each other. Like Saiyans. Life mates. Attaching yourself to one person for the rest of your life. Please tell me you know what that means." 

"Like fusing?" he adds, clearly not on the same page as me with this. "We haven't fused in years, Trunks. I don't think people think we've 'bonded', or whatever, just because we're close. It's just how we are." 

I give up. 

"Forget it." I cover my face with the palms of my hands in defeat. "Forget I said anything."' 

"Trunks, listen to me. I know we're not like other people, but I don't care anymore. Do you? Do you really give a shit what other people think about us?" He edges closer to me, casually putting his arm around my shoulders. "I like what this is," he motions to the space between us. "And I don't care that there isn't a label for it. It's just how things are. Who gives a fuck what people say? They don't understand." 

I can sense he's cut himself short from what he really wants to say, and I'd almost say he's forcing back a smile, but he straightens his expression to act more serious. We've never exactly talked about any of this out loud before, so there isn't really a proper way to do it, I guess. 

"I... I don't know why I did what I did last night, but I didn't really give too much thought to it. It... just happened." He turns to face me. "But I'm not ashamed about it. I am mad at myself for doing what we did to Marron, but I'm not sorry for what I did... at the end there." 

My eyes widen at what I'm hearing, but I try to not look so surprised for him bringing it up. I let him go on. 

"I mean, we've been doing more serious things to each other since I've been fourteen and I don't think stuff like this is any different. Do you?" he questions quietly like someone's going to hear. "I just ... stopped thinking. And it felt good. That's what it's all supposed to be about, isn't it? That's why we do all of this stuff in the first place." 

I turn to face him, and somehow, I think things have been put into perspective. "I know." 

He cracks a smile from the corner of his mouth, giving a light squeeze to my shoulder as we laugh about it. Maybe this is just how things will always be between us? I think I've known it all along. Things have never been 'normal' between us, why start now? I need this. I need _him_. 

"Well," I say with a heavy breath, changing the subject to something more pressing. "How's Marron, anyway? Is she okay? About me leaving like I did?" 

"Yeah, she'll be fine. I talked to her. She was just a little freaked out about last night, but she's all right," he tells me truthfully. "I think she was more worried about upsetting us, which makes me feel even worse about what our original intentions were. She doesn't deserve that. She deserves a guy who will take care of her." He adds to himself. "She's a lot lonelier than she lets on." 

Our thoughts about Marron drown out the wind now picking up over the field below us. The rain is getting close. We should start heading back, but for some reason, I can't get it all out of my head. We'll probably never again get the opportunity to share someone like that, but it does makes for a nice thought. 

I playfully poke him in the ribs to taunt about the missed opportunity, despite all that's happened. After all, Goten's still a guy like me under that innocent, do-gooder Son persona he tries to pull off. I know exactly what we would have liked. How could he not? 

"Would have been awesome to do something like that with you, Chibi. Considering... _you know_," I smirk. "It would have felt pretty fucking good." 

He laughs with me, breaking the nice guy-mold for just a second, enough to see his real feelings on the matter. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it would have," he agrees, pulling his arm away to adjust where he's sitting so that he can sit back on his hands, taking in the beautiful mid-day sun over the mountains and the glory of that very visual thought. I can hear the snap of the blades of grass he's pulling out of the dirt even, probably trying to play off the disappointment that it will never happen. "But to be honest with you, she wasn't going to go through with it anyway. She told me." 

"What did she say?" 

"That she's a 'one-guy-girl'. We didn't have a chance from the start, regardless of how smooth you might be, Briefs," he jokes. "But, yeah, it would have been nice." 

I think for a minute about that. 

'One-guy-girl'. 

_One?_

"You know, Chibi" I ask bluntly. "There _is_ something we haven't done in a couple years, huh?" 

He doesn't take his focus away from the view, remarking idly to my statement without explanation. "Yeah, I guess it has been a few." But it only takes a moment before it sinks in and I know he's caught on to my lead. Slowly, he turns to face me with untrusting eyes. His lips part for words of objection or reason, but nothing comes out. 

"Do you think you still remember how?"   
  


_________________________________________________________________________________________________________   
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

**:: _to be continued_ ::**


	10. PART FIVE

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

**~ **PART FIVE** ~**

  


I've been sitting here on this bench patiently waiting - too patiently - for almost forty-five minutes now. _Forty-five long minutes_ of watching guest after guest pass by, looking down at me with the kind of pity you give a girl who's been stood up, but is just too naive to realize it. Or maybe too foolish? Still, I've been waiting here and trying not to look dejected about it and avoiding any sort of sympathy dished out my way. I've been hearing them whispering all night on their way inside the banquet hall, commenting about me sitting here alone near the entrance, clearly waiting for someone who isn't going to show. But I absolutely refuse to look like a broken bird about this. No guy - I don't care who he is or what he looks like - is going to break me tonight! 

Especially one I don't even know! 

As much as I tried everything I could do to talk them out of it, Goten and Trunks insisted on setting me up on date for this. A real live 'set-me-up-with-a-friend-trust-me-you'll-like-him' blind date. Do I come across as _that_ hopeless that they couldn't even find someone who would be willing to meet me first? I'm not quite sure if the whole thing is a compliment or a giant blow to the ego. I was actually a little flattered at first that they cared, but now I'm starting to wish that I had just told the limo driver to keep going once we got here, despite splurging my entire first paycheck on the dress I'm wearing, and spending hours in front of the mirror preparing for what was supposed to be my 'first ever official date'. 

More than anything, I wanted tonight to be perfect, to walk in on the arm of this handsome friend of theirs, making every other secretary and intern from Capsule Corporation green with envy. To be the Princess of the Ball like I've read about in so many of my romance novels, even if it was just for one night. Maybe even hear them talking about it at the water cooler on Monday morning and gossiping about how lucky I was. Well, maybe I am that hopeless. Or should I say unrealistic? 

At least I can be thankful that Goten and Trunks aren't here to see this. The last thing I need is for them to feel sorry for their 'Poor Little Marron' again, and try to make me feel better by smothering me like they did when I first moved in with them. Granted, that was almost two weeks ago, and they have been keeping their distance in that respect, but I don't want them here trying to play the role of savior for me just because their so-called friend has stood me up. I don't care what they've told me about this guy - I already don't like him, if not for the sheer fact that he's left me stranded here without a date in front of all these people, and completely alone at the first Capsule Corporation Shareholders Banquet I've been invited to. He's probably a jerk anyway. 

Unfortunately though, the only real options I have left now are to either sit dateless at Bulma's table and hear it from my mom all night about how I should be out flirting with the rich, corporate executives instead of just sitting around waiting for someone to marry me already - like she wants me to only be interested in someone's bottom line, not the kind of person they are. Or call the guys to come pick me up and look like the world's biggest loser for scaring away a guy who's never even met me. I don't know which is worse. 

I want to disappear. 

I glance down at my watch. It's been almost an hour, and the line of cars that have been pulling up all night have just about stopped, leaving me here in the wake of everyone else's night out. Slowly, my eyes drift over the willowy trees and flower gardens that surround this place at the foot of the stairs. At least it's a change of scenery from being in the apartment all night, watching Goten and Trunks behave with each other in a way that only makes me stare in fascination. 

Twinkling lights in the trees. A small reflecting pool among a forest of rose bushes. A gorgeous man sitting alone at the edge of it. 

Whaa-... 

_Just how long has that guy been sitting there? Oh Dende, please tell me he hasn't been watching me this whole time!_

I squint my eyes to get a better look, but the dusky lighting doesn't help. I can barely make him out. Lights glittering from the surface of the water reflect off his angular features as he takes long, lazy drags of his cigarette, studying me with half-lidded eyes like I'm the most fascinating thing here. Looking at me as if he has something to say, but has no intention of coming over to me to say it. A tiny smile curls at the corner of his mouth as he exhales the smoke without breath, remaining bent over with is elbows on his knees. Waiting for me. 

I clutch my purse tightly in my hand. All of the nerve that I've wanted to dish out all night from being stood up has suddenly vanished from my body, taking every last bit of air in my lungs with it. I'm frozen. 

With one last hit, he flicks the cigarette off to the side, running his hand through hair that is the most unusual blend of pale violet and black I've ever seen. He straightens his suit jacket and rises to his feet, giving me the first full look of him without being shadowed by the trees above him, and his presence in the dimmed lighting is incredible nonetheless. Tall, muscular build, sullen, but powerful good looks. An undeniable sex appeal radiates from every inch of his body. 

He walks straight for me, not tearing his eyes off of me for a second. I'm breathless before he even reaches me. 

"You know, you're even more beautiful than they told me you were," he gives a coy smile before biting his bottom lip lightly, casually pulling the sides of his jacket to the side to put his hands in his pockets. No tie, top button open, hair spiked and undone, but sexy like I've never seen on anyone else before. Dark, endless eyes make me forget where I am as his voice still echoes in my head. The tiniest shrug of his shoulders is the only indication that he's actually human. 

"I... um, well..." I can't speak a word, although I know it's probably making me look like a dumb blonde. I'm a deer in headlights. 

"You are Marron, right?" he asks gently. "I just that can't imagine anyone as beautiful as you being anyone else." 

Everything melts. If this is flirting, he's already won me over. I'm half gone. 

If I was mad a moment ago at this guy, I really can't remember why. And quite frankly, I don't care. Here is the most beautiful man I've ever seen, talking to _me _of all people, and telling me that he thinks that I'm beautiful. Me. _Marron_. The same girl who - up until now - only read of such things in books and movies, and figured that they never actually happened in real life. This doesn't happen to normal people. Guys like this just don't appear out of nowhere. 

"You... _y-you're_ my date? How long were you sitting there?" I manage to stumble out clumsily. In no way did I expect Goten and Trunks' friend to be quite this handsome, and it's completely throwing me off. 

"Long enough to work up the nerve to talk to you. It's just that... you see, I've never exactly been on a date like this before," he tells me shyly, as unbelievable as it sounds. Yet, I know he's telling me the truth - his honesty is unmistakable. He offers me his arm like a true gentleman, and it takes a second before I'm even able to respond to it, cautiously taking it as if I were to actually touch him, he would turn to smoke like a dream. 

I finally manage to form a coherent sentence. "I-I don't know your name." 

He laughs lightly under his breath, giving me a glimpse of the charm that's sure to be the end of me. "I guess they call me Gotenks around here, but you can call me anything you want." 

I almost didn't have to ask. I feel like I've known him forever.   
  
  
  


As he walks me into the same building that I thought just minutes ago I would be walking into alone, all female eyes immediately lock onto our presence the second we walk through the door. Stunned, dreamy eyes for him. Cold, jealous eyes for me. 

I'm on cloud nine. 

"I suppose we should try to find our table. Do you know where..." he fades off, looking intensely at me with those dark eyes that continue to suck my will power dry despite all of the women who would just love to pull him away. He pauses before coming back to his thoughts, "...I'm sorry. It's hard to concentrate when you make time stand still like this." 

The urge to touch him is overpowering. I can barely conjure up a response through the smile that's splitting my face from ear to ear, and coloring my cheeks hot pink I'm sure. I want to act as elegant and sophisticated as I can about what this is all doing to me, but I feel I must look like I'm about to bubble over with excitement. I apologize for giddiness with a tiny nod - about all I can manage before I lead him to my table located near the front of the room. I just can't wait to see what Bulma will say when she sees us! 

"Marron!" 

I turn around to find the voice for my attention. 

"Sweetheart, is that you?" he calls out from the mix of people, trying to squeeze through everyone more than twice his size. My father's a small guy when I see him around so many other people, but I forget that most of the time - I've learned from an early age not to judge people from size. "Your mother and I have been loo-..." He stops cold in his tracks the minute he lays eyes on us; a fatherly-talk to my date is no doubt on its way. _Please don't embarrass me now, Dad_. 

For a second, I feel a little awkward that I've bumped into my father like this. After all, my dad has ever seen me out on a date before, and I'm really not too sure how he'll react seeing me with a guy - especially someone like Gotenks, who does _not_ look like the sweet boy-next-door type. Not in the slightest. In fact, Gotenks looks more like the kind of guy you would threaten to not come anywhere near your daughter, much less escort her around. I hold my breath for a typical reaction, but he's speechless. 

I need to break the silence. "Dad, I want you to meet my date. This is Gotenks..." I stop the introductions once I realize that Gotenks is just as frozen from seeing my dad. Almost nervous. 

My father responds flatly through clenched teeth as he stiffens his shoulders, "I know who this is, Marron. We don't need introductions," he adds sarcastically, before scowling at my date. "_I think we've met before_." 

"Oh, I... didn't realize..." Is this a good thing? 

"...And I can hope he's going to treat my daughter with respect and honor for the next half hour. Am I right?" he questions him directly, all though it now sounds more like telling. It's not too often I see my dad sound so threatening, but I suppose I should expect as much for this little 'daddy's girl' milestone moment. He's handling it better than I thought. 

A silent agreement is exchanged between them, but I can't help wonder where they know each other from, or why on Earth my dad thinks I'm only going to be here for half an hour. It kinda makes me wish Bulma didn't have to go and invite my parents here tonight, since I just know they're going to play the role of chaperone and spy on us relentlessly now. They probably would have anyway - they can be so nosey when it comes to my business, just like when I lived at home. 

I somehow manage to pull Gotenks away from my father's veiled threats, and decide that a table as far away from everyone as we can get will no doubt be the best option at this point. Anything out of sight, though I'm sure anywhere we sit is going to generate looks – no one has taken their eyes off of us since we've walked in. Not that I blame them - I'm with the hottest guy in the room. 

"You know," he tells me. "If at all possible, we should probably try to avoid Bulma while we're at it. I don't think it would be a good idea if she saw us here together either." 

"Okay, hold on a minute." I stop him from going any further. I want answers. "How does everyone know you? Do you work at Capsule Corporation or something? And how do you know my dad?" I try not to sound intrusive, but I'm starting to worry. 

He quickly sits me down at an empty table in the corner and remains low, scanning the room for any sign of my boss in the crowd. "Actually, I'm pretty sure nobody here knows who I am, except maybe your parents and Bulma..." he lowers his voice secretly. "I met them back when I was a kid, but that's about it. Same with Goten and Trunks." He turns his focus back to me once the area's been determined safe. 

"You haven't seen Goten or Trunks since you were _kids_?! I... I thought you guys were good friends?" 

"We are. But it's... just been awhile." He edges his chair in closer to me, smoothly switching the subject to something less interrogating. He envelops my hands within his larger ones, studying them for a moment and then turning his face up to mine, his eyes suddenly shy. "But enough about me and those guys. I want to hear about you." He changes his tone. "I want to know everything." His genuine interest about me seems so familiar, but I don't hesitate to question my instincts or return the honesty - it's not too often people are interested in me like this, especially a man like Gotenks. 

I tell him all about the island and my parents. About how I've been around martial arts my whole life, but have somehow managed to avoid being trained by either my dad or Master Roshi - I doubt my mom cares either way. We share stories about the Briefs, and Goten and Trunks, even lending me some mildly embarrassing stories about them to make me laugh. It's not long before we feel comfortable enough to get into a more personal side, all though I knew my end would be pretty bare in comparison - I haven't been around too many guys my age in the past couple of years, so dating has been just about impossible. But I would have never expected his side to be so similar. How could someone like this never have had a girlfriend? Or even gone out on a date before? It's almost like he just appeared in this city out of thin air. I guess we have more in common than I initially realized. 

The more we talk, the more I see that there's a whole side to him beyond the chiseled good looks and raw sex appeal that becomes nearly overpowering at times, showing me glimpses of a polite - almost boyish - personality peeking through. He's charming, yet so open towards me, that everything about us seems to fit more and more like a lost piece to a puzzle that has been longing to find its match. At times, he's relatively timid and shy around me, like I really am the first girl he's ever talked to, but then he can be lethally seductive and bold the next, bringing out a chemistry between us that I couldn't ever explain to someone who has never experienced it. The synch between us is more than obvious. 

A soft, jazzy piano starts to play under our conversation. I don't think I would have even noticed it if he didn't bring it to my attention. 

"Wait..." He listens closely. "I love music like this." 

I smile in agreement. Even his taste in music compliments my own. 

"Will you dance with me?" 

_How could I refuse?_

He takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor, all though I'm pretty sure my feet never actually touched the ground. The crowds instantly part for us as we pass through to an open corner of the floor, but I feel like we're only ones left in the room. 

His arm wraps around my waist pulling me close, holding my hand with the other – showing none of the formality of first contact that I've always expected from someone, or even from myself. The very scent of his cologne is driving my senses wild. From the corner of my eye, I can see my mother holding back my father as we dance together, arguing about something, but I couldn't care less. This is the best night of my life. 

"I don't want this to have to end, Marron," he says softly. 

He draws me even closer. I can feel his breath on my cheek. His eyes drift close as he lowers his face to mine, holding just inches from my lips without touching. _A perfect gentleman to the end_. 

"I never expected it to be... like _this_." His words ache in my heart. He's a dream come true. _My_ dream. 

The more I lose myself in his presence, the more I'm starting to realize that Gotenks isn't the sort of man you pass on the street and merely think that he's just attractive or handsome. Or the sort of guy you see modeling underwear in all those magazines with the body of a god, or the romantic hero that the heroine falls in love with by the end of chapter one. He's not even like that unrealistic fantasy that women daydream about, wishing he would someday come into their lives and sweep them off their feet with a personality that couldn't possibly exist in such a beautiful man. I know now that he's so more than all that. 

He's perfect. 

"Gotenks..." 

He barely opens his eyes to look into mine. Those piercing dark eyes. Could he possibly be in a haze as much as me? 

I want to tell him how lucky I feel. How he's holding my heart in his bare hands, and how for the first time in my life, I feel more vulnerable and scared than I ever have before, and that I don't ever want this feeling to go away. But more than anything, I want to tell him how much I want him to kiss me and tell me he feels the same way. I want him to tell me this is real, not a dream I'm going to wake up from. 

I open myself to him and allow him to read the longing desire and need in my eyes. "Gotenks..." He knows I'm not asking for his attention now. 

The grasp on my hand tightens. 

His lips part slightly. 

Our eyes slip closed. _Oh Dende, please let this be real_. 

"What do you think you're doing, young man?!?!" 

Reality snaps back. 

"_Don't you dare! _Do you hear me?" 

I spin my head around to see Bulma heading right for us. That same look of crazy in her eyes that only she can dish out, though the only time I've seen it before, it was directed towards her husband. 

Gotenks grabs my arm and pulls me off the floor before I'm even able to explain. "Quick! We gotta get out of here!" 

I grab my purse off the table and we run out the door, losing her in the sea of people between the dance floor and the tables and leaving before she could say a word in edgewise, although I can hear her barking out her disgust for 'pulling such a stunt'. For whatever reason, I guess it was pretty important that Bulma didn't see us together, and now I'm starting to wonder if this is going to affect my job come Monday morning. 

He continues to lead me running through the front entrance towards the parking lot, and it's not until we're inside one of the company cars and being driven off that I manage to catch my breath enough to ask. "I don't understand... why do we have to hide like this? Who are you?" 

He flops back into the seat after telling the driver where to take us, apparently relieved that we got away without having to deal with the blue haired fury that is waiting for us back there. He sinks into the seat, laughing to himself at the question. "It's a long story. Forget all about it." He swivels his head over to face me. Black eyes meet mine. "I don't want this to ruin our night. We can go wherever you want." 

I don't hesitate to make the offer. "How about my place." I can't believe the words even come out of my mouth, a lifetime of morals and dignity that have been instilled in me gone right down the drain. Screw it - I've been hoping and waiting for nineteen years to meet someone like this and I'm not about to let him slip away.   
  
  
  
  


As soon as we reach the floor to Trunks and Goten's place, I think twice about what will happen if they're actually home to see us here. This could potentially be disastrous even though they promised me they were going to be out by this hour. But as much as I want to be my own voice of reason and awaken my convoluted conscience, I'm beaten to it. 

He stops me from sliding the elevator door that will open up to the apartment. "Marron..." His hand clenches to a fist. "I think... I should say goodnight," he whispers to me, painfully holding back the truth as he focuses on my lips, "...even as much as I _really_ don't want to." 

"You don't have to."_ I want you to come inside_. 

He touches my face with the back of his hand, speaking to me with something that sounds almost like regret. "I... I didn't plan on tonight going like it did. But the situation has changed. I can't do this..." 

My expression must look as confused as I feel. How did everything change so quickly? 

"I feel..." He searches for how to say it, "like there's this part of me that's never bothered to open up to anyone like this before - like I've never allowed myself to get this... _way_... with anyone." He smoothes his hand against my cheek and I lean into it. "And then there's this other part that wants so desperately to just let everything go and let it happen." He looks away as he clenches the muscles in his jaw, breaking the touch despite my silent protest. "I can't do this to you now, Marron. You deserve so much better than me. I'll just hurt you." 

"No you won't." I don't want to plead, but I don't want him to leave. 

But before another fleeting thought of rational behavior stops me from listening to what my heart truly wants, I take his face in my hands and kiss him fully on his lips. Soft and tender, pressing my body to his as I inhale the warm sent of his skin. Tasting him on my tongue as I'm flooded with the sudden desire to deepen the kiss further, to sink against him and lose myself to the feel of his mouth upon mine. My hands are unsteady as they slide forward to gently frame the face that has filled my dreams for a lifetime and held me enthralled as no one else ever has or I thought ever would. I can feel his hard, sculpted body under his clothes as he draws me into his arms, and I continue to drift my hands down to snake around his neck, holding on for dear life. 

Overpowered with lust, he runs his hand up through the back of my hair, apparently having already forgotten about everything he just said a second ago and giving in to what we both want more than anything. I can feel his desire getting the best of him, causing delicious chills to run through me in response. I involuntarily moan out loud, gripping his shoulders harder, trying to keep myself from losing my hold on reality, but the line is quickly beginning to blur. 

My heart is in my throat. I'm his completely. 

He plunges his tongue between my lips to explore my mouth, coaxing my tongue to entwine with his with unparalleled skill that must be coming from somewhere. Another strangled groan escapes me, and his greedy mouth swallows my sigh of pleasure. I have never been kissed like this in my entire life and my resistance is starting to melt like a snowball thrown into the sun. Want and need are clawing at my belly like a trapped animal. I know I'm entirely out of my element here, but I don't want him to stop. 

Without breaking the kiss, he slides the door open without looking and pulls me in with him. Nobody's home. There's nobody to be my voice of reason. 

My arms pull him closer as I twist my fingers through the sides of his spiked purple hair where it blends into black, and I'm torn between the desire to continue forward to satisfy our needs, and the knowledge that to do so will surely be inviting trouble with my still fairly-new living situation. I just can't imagine Goten or Trunks being all right with this, but I'm beginning to care less and less the more I give in to his touch. It's this sudden compulsion that I cannot explain. I have yet to know the intimate touch of a man, but right now, I have an overwhelming impulse to throw away all my morals and stand bare under the hungry gaze of the man before me. I tremble as I feel warm waves of desire wash over me - I'm drowning in his kiss, and I can feel a twinge of fear in my chest for what will come next. 

He closes the door behind us, breaking away from my lips just enough to read the want in my eyes. Once again, I wonder how I could hunger so much for what I had gone my entire adult life without. My need for him is growing, not lessening, like an addict's need for drugs. 

"I don't want to hurt you, Marron," he whispers hotly on my neck, begging for my strength. His voice still holds that same overwhelming mixture of love, lust and possession that had been present from the moment we met. "We don't have to do this." 

"I _want_ to." 

It was as if I had suddenly released the flood gates on years worth of pent up tension and frustration by saying those three little words, he gives in, crushing me up against the back of the door and pinning me against his body. Kisses become heavy with passion. A tentative touch sends electrical pulses skittering across my flesh. Our eyes lock, and instead of pulling back with the modesty I lost hours ago, I allow his hands to follow a path of his choosing. I've become a woman who craves the mastery of her body at the hands of another. I'm no longer nervous. I trust him with my heart. 

Effortlessly lifting me off my feet, he carries me to the bed clear on the other side of the apartment. _Trunks' bed_. But at this point, it's the last thing on my mind. I'll change the sheets tomorrow. 

The straps of my dress are slipped from my shoulders. Expensive black material is pooled at my feet. Here I am - standing in my panties like I wanted, but all I can feel are my cheeks burning from being exposed like I've never been to anyone before. My arms are straight and rigid at my sides, my fists clenched. I take in a deep, unsteady breaths to calm my nerves. I'm suddenly finding out what it's like to be self-conscious of your body under the studying eyes of a man. 

So slowly, he takes off his jacket and begins to unbutton his dress shirt without breaking his gaze, but my hands quickly reach out to stop him. 

He freezes abruptly, thinking I must be having second thoughts. 

"No... Let me." 

I take over from where he left off, undoing each button of his shirt to expose more of what I've been waiting to feel for so long, edging my hands under the collar and peeling it away. It takes monumental effort on my part to not yet give in to the urge to touch the tantalizing expanse of his smooth chest. To not reach out and trace the taut muscles that flexed from sensing the warmth of my breath only inches away. 

Shirt on the floor. Belt buckle unclasped and fallen to his feet, along with the pants it still remains attached to. 

I just about gasp at the near-naked body before me - Sculpted and chiseled as if it was carved from marble. Perfected from years of hard training, and yet desperate for the touch of a woman to finally appreciate the accomplishments of a lifetime of technique. 

My hands trace the intricate tattoo-like markings running over his shoulders and down his arms. They're fascinating, yet I know I've seen something like them before. "Where did you get these?" I ask curiously. 

He's not concerned with the question. His attention remains focused on my body, and he silences me with a single finger on my lips, stopping me from breaking the path of where we're about to go. "I've had them forever. They're not important now." Once again, I'm lifted from my feet and he carefully lays me down on Trunks' soft bed, supporting himself on his hands to hover above me. He breathes my name softly, as if it were something unbearably precious to him before reaching to cup my face between reassuring hands. 

I tense instinctively, but a warm, apologetic smile plays on his lips, and the unease of my position begins to dissolve as his thumbs lightly stroke my cheeks, drawing me back in to this surreal world of passion he's created for us. My eyes drop to his lips, aching to taste them again. 

With a knowing laugh, he obliges my unspoken request and leans in to capture my mouth. I sigh, willingly parting my lips under that sweet pressure, meeting his tongue without any need of coaxing on his part this time. As the kiss deepens, I let the anxiety of moments ago slip away and once again lose myself to his experienced ministrations. 

Ever so tenderly, he lowers his body so that my breasts are pressed firmly against his long, muscular frame. The little fabric that's still left between our lower bodies could nearly burn away, and our faces are so close, I can see the different variations of black and midnight blue in his eyes. Gotenks looks so young to me, but I now know that it's just a kind illusion - his life must have been even more difficult than he has let on, and he's older than his years would lead one to believe. 

Blazing eyes that burn with an inner fire. 

Throbbing heat pressing against the juncture of my thighs, covered by the thin skin of my panties. 

I whimper as warm hands cover my breasts, caressing them with callused palms. His mouth descends to lave them with his tongue and my back arches up as I softly murmur his name, awash in this new sensation. Something white-hot breaks within me and I give myself over to instinct, letting my hips rock rhythmically against him, but each movement brings me in more tortured contact with his hard length, and I whisper his name on a sigh. 

The sound and feel of ripping fabric under his impatient hands. 

Naked flesh sliding against naked flesh. 

The possessive growls rumbling in the back of his throat. 

Wet, moist heat meets his searching fingers, and he moans aloud against my breast as he feels the proof of my readiness. I gasp in shock when two fingers push inside me, instantly finding and repeatedly moving against a spot I had never known existed before that moment. Reflexively, my hips began to move in time with his finger thrusts, all the while his thumb continues to circle and stroke me as the delicious pressure within continues to build to an unbearable level. I'm losing all touch with reality. 

Slowly, he withdraws his hand from between my legs, despite my silent pleas for more, and his eyes command my full attention. I watch in a daze as he lifts his hand to his lips and slowly licks the two fingers that he had just used to bring me to such incredible heights. Shock courses through me at the primal act, as my rather sheltered background has not prepared me for either the action itself or the surge of lust that I feel in response. I bite my lip softly, and my body reacts with another rush of wet heat between my legs. Only after removing the last taste of me from his fingers, does he bend to twirl his tongue around my ear and murmur one last thing. 

"I need you so bad, Marron." 

He roughly spreads my thighs apart, causing a last involuntary whimper to escape me and I dig my fingernails into the muscles of his back in anticipation of what's about to come next. With delicate ease, he gives every consideration to my untried body, save for an agonized groan of apology seconds before he pushes into me. His hot mouth swallows the cry of pain that this foreign feeling might have brought forth as he slowly eases himself fully inside me. He pulls away from the kiss and I don't dare so much as blink. My breath hitches harshly as he fills me completely, burying himself deep within my aching body. 

I welcome the pain that sears through me before fading to a dull ache, and whimper as he forces my legs even further apart, straining unstretched muscles. His pace increases, each stroke now being accompanied by the same words echoing over and over in my head. _I need you_. 

He tightens his grip on my hips. 

The sound of his flesh pounding into mine is mingled with my soft cries and his low moans of pleasure. 

I shut my eyes as the sweet pressure builds inside of me, almost sobbing at the exquisite sensations coursing through my body. He holds me to him as my body shudders repeatedly, riding out the intense ripples of pleasure, and I wrap my arms around his neck without conscious thought, biting my lip at the overwhelming feeling of completeness. 

"You... feel _so_ good," he groans, using the wall behind the headboard for leverage, plunging into me with wild abandon and sheathing himself deeper within my eager body with each powerful thrust. "_Oh my god_!" 

This is right. _This_ is real. 

Nothing exists but the exquisite friction and heat created as he moves inside me. Pleasure mixed with an all-consuming need for release. My body shakes with the tension of being forced to balance between pain and ecstasy. 

Before the last of the shuddering tremors that wrack my body have even begun to fade, he's crying out and increasing his pace. He angles himself to go deeper, all but bruising my thighs and churning my insides as he pounds into me furiously. Flesh meets flesh as he chases his own release. He leans over me, supporting himself on his arms, and drives himself even deeper, touching the mouth of my womb. My hips rise instinctively to meet his in a rhythm as old as the universe and I dig my nails into his taut biceps, holding on with unruly, twitching muscles. A harsh groan rumbles from his chest and he lets out a shuddering cry before calling my name over and over, and deep within my body, I feel his hot release spurt into my waiting warmth. 

His mouth covers mine in a desperate kiss as he continues to pump into me, but once he is completely spent, he collapses on top of me, burying his face in the hollow of my neck. 

Harsh pants sounding from our overtaxed lungs. 

Bodies shaking and collapsed from exhaustion. 

I stroke his trembling back as my hands glide over his glistening skin. Our bodies are glued together with our sweat and his essence, and he tenderly laps at the moisture beading on my chest and neck with his tongue. My entire body trembles from the quenching of our need, and our eyes meet and hold for what seems like an eternity. Within his blue-black depths, I can read the intensity of his love and his desire, and I know he can see the same in mine. 

Until this moment, I never knew that love and lust were so intertwined.   
  
  
  


The smell of sex hangs heavily around us. 

The heady mixture of sweat, musk, and liquid heat serves as an incredibly arousing stimulant. 

He's intoxicating. 

I move nothing but my head on the pillow - now soaked with sweat at this point - to look on as he smokes his cigarette in long drags, flicking the ashes into the ashtray set on his abdomen and watching the orange glow burn down. I try not to look disapproving, although it _is _making him look dangerously sexy. 

"I don't normally get to do this, you know," he defends with a tiny laugh before taking one last hit and putting it out. His focus turns inward, "I don't usually get to do much of anything." 

I hesitate to ask one of the many questions I've had on my mind all night, not quite sure what to expect in response. "Why do you and the guys have the same tattoos?" 

He swivels his head to face me, taking a deep breath. "Well, they're not _exactly_ the same," he corrects. "And they're not really tattoos either. I got them in Otherworld, when I was a kid." His words seem flat, and it's not what I wanted to hear. 

"You didn't answer my question." 

He shifts uncomfortably on the mattress and clears his throat. Perhaps this is a bigger topic than I thought it was. "You don't remember too much about Majin Buu, do you?" 

I don't reply. Just a tiny shake of my head for him to proceed with the explanation. 

"There's this group of warriors in Otherworld called the Metamorise who invented a... technique that allows two people to join bodies in order to create a single, more powerful warrior. Goku met them, and out of desperation, taught Goten and Trunks how to do it in order to fight Majin Buu. They were kids, but it was the only hope to save the planet... at the time." His voice becomes sympathetic as he turns his body to face me. "When they died along with the destruction of the Earth, they met the Metamorise people in Otherworld and were each given a half of these markings as a symbol of their culture." He pauses hesitantly before giving the real reason. "I've had them ever since." 

My breath is suddenly becoming quick and sharp. I try not to sound upset, as I cling to the sheets. Desperate to hear a perfectly logical explanation for all of this. My voice is barely audible. "Tell me _right now_ how you know Goten and Trunks." 

He swallows thickly from the panic in my voice, nearly on the verge of crying or freaking out. 

"_Tell me now!_" 

And for the first time since I've laid eyes on Gotenks, I can see something so horrible that logic defies it. I'm dreading that my worst fear will come true from a question I already think I know the answer to. I don't want to know anymore. I want to take it all back. "I... I remember you now," I croak out, my vision already blurred. I feel sick. 

I grab the sheets and hold them tightly to my chest, pushing back against the headboard to sit up, but he doesn't move, looking at me with saddened eyes that I know all too well I've seen before. Goten… As much as I really wish I didn't. Trunks… _How could they do this to me?!_ "No. No, it's not true. This isn't true!" I plead. "Please tell me this isn't true." 

"I never meant to hurt you, Mar-" 

"I don't believe you! _You're lying!_" I scream. I'm in a nightmare, feeling my heart, my body, my world crumble into pieces. I can't breathe. And if I can't breathe, I can't be alive. "T-This... this isn't... possible." 

He slowly pushes himself up and sits on the edge of the bed, no longer able to look me in the eye. "It wasn't supposed to be this way. I... _we_ didn't mean to hurt you." 

True, true... God_ it's all true... they_ betrayed me. 

And without explaining any further, or trying to comfort me with words that would have been only lies at this point, he rises to his feet, letting the sheets drop away from his body. Just moments ago, I had thought I was looking at the man of my dreams. Now I know that I actually am. 

I squeeze my eyes closed. Sobbing. Angry. Humiliated. 

Broken. 

I want to wake up.   
  
  


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I can barely catch my breath. My body's shot. 

Too long. We were fused for _way_ too long. 

"Chibi, you okay?" I whisper in a hush under my labored breathing. I can't see too well, and I feel like every cell of my body is about to fall apart. 

No response. 

I wipe away the sweat from my eyes with the palm of my hand and open them enough to see Goten sitting hunched up on the floor, his knees pulled into his chest. His hands are clasped together, but shaking just as badly as I am, or maybe even worse? Way, _way_ too long. 

He nods - about all he can do, save the suppressed grunts of pain he gives as he shrugs into his shoulders. But there's crying. More like hysteria. _Marron! Oh god_... 

Simultaneously, we both look up to her on the bed, curled up against the head board, scrambling to get away from us as tears stream down her face as hard sobs forcefully wrack through her slender body. Shaking her head in disbelief at the phenomenon of us splitting back into two right before her eyes, when she probably wanted nothing more than to be told it was all a lie. She's scared, but I can't say that I blame her. The damage is perhaps farther then we could have ever anticipated. 

We try to comfort her, doing everything we can to explain why we did this, even though neither of us ever expected it to turn to such an extreme when we originally thought up the idea. We just wanted to make her feel special - to take care of her - but our own selfishness carried things entirely too far, and made everything into a mockery of our good intentions. Her trust has been violated, her heart, her body, everything, just for the thrill of a forbidden one-night stand. 

We've fucked up in the worst possible way. 

I crawl over to my incapacitated counterpart and help Goten get to his feet, cautiously taking a seat on the edge of the bed opposite of her. Not giving a shit that we're completely naked as we try to reason with her. But it's obvious that she wants nothing to do with us. "Marron, please listen to us..." we automatically say in sync, still feeling the strange effects of the fusion. 

She screams back, glaring at us with bloodshot accusing eyes, her cheeks still stained with tears running down her red face. "Get away from me! Both of you! _Don't touch me_," she snaps, yanking her hand away from Goten's, which was trying to reach out to her. We can't let her take off like this, but how the fuck are we supposed to fix this if we can't calm her down enough to explain? 

She holds the rest of the sheets wrapped tightly to her body as she just manages to escape our reach. We need to comfort her - justify what happened. But she runs towards the stairs, crying hysterically. 

"Marron, wait!" 

And she actually stops. 

For a second, we're both surprised that she's letting us speak, but not for long. She slowly turns to face us, the aquamarine crystal of her irises revealing a crushed young woman. Bottom lip trembling as she holds back the tears long just enough to say one last thing to us. "I don't ever want to see you two again." 

The room goes cold. I release the breath in my lungs sharply in defeat and watch as she runs up to the loft. Leaving both Goten and me speechless at what we've done. The sound of drawers flinging open. The rip of a zipper on her bag. She's leaving, but we don't dare make a move to stop her. We've lost all rights to voice opinions the minute we decided to fuse in the first place. We did this to her. 

"_Trunks_," he quietly pleads, but I have absolutely no idea what to say. There's nothing we _can_ say. Maybe this is for the best right now. 

Within a few tense minutes, we catch sight of her running down the stairs with two duffle bags in her hands. No eye contact. No good bye. 

The slam of the door echoes in the apartment well after she's left the building. 

Neither of us says a word. We just sit in the uncomfortably thick silence, naked and sticky in the bed we just shared, and yet, the same one we took something that we never had a right to take in the first place. 

I wish this never happened.   


  


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:: **_to be continued... but I best be gettin' some reviews after this one _^_~**:: 


	11. PART SIX

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion   


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**~ **PART SIX **~**

  
  
  
  


"I've got a reading on it, but there's nothing here." 

"Well, look harder. It's not like it's going to be sitting out on a rock for you." 

I drop everything I'm doing to flash a look equal to the sarcastic remark I've been given. I know damn well they're not easy to find - I've got six of them in my fucking bag right now... although this last bastard is being much more elusive than the others. 

Focusing my attention back to the search, I kick some rocks and dense foliage to the side to continue looking for it. My patience is wearing thin, and the extreme humidity dampening the air isn't helping our cause at all, but I wasn't exactly the one who chose to wind up in this place. In fact, it wasn't really Trunks' either, as much as I would like to blame him for it right now. 

We're looking for Dragonballs, and when they split up, they take on a mind of their own. Dragon Radar or no Dragon Radar, they're still a bitch to track down, making it very difficult to believe that Bulma can gather up all seven of them in just a couple of days when she needs to. But unfortunately, her services weren't an option this time - this is something me and Trunks need to do on our own.   
  
  


It's been a rough four months and twenty-two days since we took off on this mission, if you want to call it that. Exactly one day after the Shareholder's Banquet. 

Armed with a backpack of necessities, a couple thousand zenni, one Dragon Radar, and Trunks' sword, I was pretty sure that we'd be able to attack whatever challenge would come our way on this quest, excluding the fact that we haven't done anything like this in like what... _ten years_? It was supposed to give us time to think - to straighten out the mess we caused and redeem ourselves in the eyes of someone who didn't deserve it. But what I didn't expect was for this heavy regret to start coming between Trunks and me. Enough so that I'm beginning to really hate myself for what I've done, if not for that fact alone. I never thought something so bad could result from just trying to find a little happiness for all of us, but both of us knew the second we saw her face as she told us she never wanted to see us again, something needed to be done. Or should I say _undone_? 

Enter a certain wish that needs to be made in order to make things right. To undo the damage that we had no right to cause, regardless of our intentions. 

Somehow, I fear that the Marron we were just starting to know is gone, replaced by a love-scorn young woman who's been taken advantage of by the only people she thought she could trust. The only contact anyone's had with her at all is a single call to the office to quit her job that following morning, leaving a message specifically for _us _to forget we ever knew her. But I just have to hope that it's so we don't assume she's in trouble and try to find her. Yet. We figure she's moved into someplace new since that night, seeing how she didn't return to the island or Capsule Corporation, but with who or where - we have no idea. Her average human ki is so weak compared to what we're used to sensing, making it impossible for us to find her among the millions of people in the city... if she's even still in it. 

But since that night, my regret for all of this has been overwhelming, making me wish that I had used at least some kind of judgment to realize that it was entirely selfish to cheat her like we did. I completely broke my promise to protect her, even after knowing first-hand how hurt she was the first time we took advantage of her. 

I want her to know that I care about her, and that the feelings we have towards her aren't a total lie like I know she thinks that they are. But I suppose my motivation - _our _motivation - wasn't as noble as I would like to believe either. I just wanted make her feel special, showing her into our little world of not caring what everyone else thinks, and letting her know that simple, _real_ gratification doesn't have to be so wrong, even if it was just supposed to be for one night. 

But it's _that_ twisted reality of thinking that has gotten us into so much trouble. Trunks and I have spent so much time convincing ourselves that our loose interpretation of sexuality is perfectly normal, we forgot that in all actuality, it's really not. We forgot that not everyone else is used to separating sex from feelings. Sharing such intimacy with nothing to hold on to. Void of any attachment you're not supposed to have, and ignoring the fact that it's natural to love and become attached to another when you let down your guard... just how much of this still applies to me, I'm not sure anymore. 

Because of our serious lack of judgment, Pandora's Box has finally been opened, and now matters are worse.   
  
  


After that night - after Trunks and me were left alone and naked in that bed together - something changed. Everything that we had done together before that moment had been purely for the effect and nothing else, or so we've been telling ourselves. But after real sex had happened between us -_ real_ emotion and _real _passion - I realized what utter and total bullshit that is. If things were ever weird between us before, they're damn near unbearable now, and I don't know which is worse - living with the fact that we've ruined someone else's life because of it, or pretending that the one I have with Trunks is going to just go back to the way it was once this is all over. 

It was just that I finally felt what it was like to give in to it. To let everything go and listen to what my heart truly wants - not just my body - and experience something that I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for. I wasn't afraid or scared to act on it either, which in any other circumstance would have been a good thing. But when all was said and done, I was left lying next to my _best friend _of all people, dripping with the sex that we both shared and obvious to the reality that we both wanted all of it. I've let myself feel love, and I can't live without it anymore. But I got it from a girl whose life I destroyed and someone who I can not take that road with alone. Where does that leave me?   
  
  


Looking for these last two Dragonballs over the past month, I've finally admitted to myself that Trunks and me aren't just friends anymore. Not like friends who would just live and die for one other. Stop time for each other. Lie down in traffic for each other. _We're_ _close_. Too close to just be considered friends, even though it's only obvious when we're alone - when we forget about that disapproving world on the other side of the wall and finally give into what we've been so desperate to hide all these years. Like smelling his scent on his pillow after he leaves for work, or closing my eyes to that calming warmth of his hands as they smooth over my bare skin during... whatever. Lying with him on the couch and resting my head on his lap, feeling his hands run lazily through my hair as I gradually fall asleep. Or those last few moments after orgasm, when it's still okay to be pressed up against him, lost in the feeling of his hot breath on my neck as he carefully traces the marks on my back that mirror his own. Reminding me that the person I'm holding knows exactly what it's like to be just a little less human than everyone else. Before we have to go back to being just friends, when in fact, we haven't been_ just friends _for a long time. 

I don't know what that makes us anymore. 

Maybe I'm just looking for something that should have never existed in the first place? 

It's gotten too hard living with this emptiness of never being able to love someone. I want to forget all these feelings I have for Trunks. Just go back to being friends with him. Finally start looking to settle down with someone and bang out a couple of kids to please my mother who still thinks that's what I'm doing with my life, and just forget that I need him in so many more ways than I can ever express. Or in ways that I even _should_. 

But what will that make of me? What am I without Trunks?   
  
  


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Throughout our almost-five month stint removed from the real world out here, I've slowly been coming to acknowledge that I have no intentions of going back to it. Since I already know what will be waiting for me if I actually do go back - my mother, the company, my responsibilities, my life, Marron's father, _Marron_ - I think it's time I leave the old Trunks Briefs behind and start over. He has, after all, become something I can no longer control. 

_Marron_... We hurt her, but that's an understatement of epic proportions - what we did to her made it very easy deciding whether or not to exert all of this time and effort looking for seven mysterious little orbs scattered around the planet. By doing so, I not only thought I would be giving myself a chance to be freed of everything I want to get away from, but also a chance to undo all of the events that have snowballed up until now. It was my idea to use the Dragonballs and wish this all away, even stealing my mother's Dragon Radar to do it. 

But more than anything, I thought this time away from all of it would have given me and Goten time to sort things out. To become close again, and to remember what it's like for it to just be the two of us like it used to be. When things were simple. Before things changed. 

Things haven't exactly been going the way I wanted out here. Apart from our getting back into some casual training routines over this time away and feeling liberated from my responsibilities, I now think there's something important - maybe even _necessary_ - missing from my life that I need to fulfill. Something I haven't managed to run away from yet. Something I never paid any attention to before, but that is quickly becoming something I can't live without anymore. It's not going away. I can feel something stirring inside of me, and I'm worried about what will happen if it comes out.   
  
  


I've _always_ been a different person when I'm around Goten. Even _my_ father's been able to see that over the years, which is probably why he ever even allowed me to hang around with him so much in the first place. I know my dad's got this unbelievable resentment towards Goku that's dated back from before I was even born, but I think the simple fact that I was at least hanging around with another kid with Saiyan blood made it tolerable for him to deal with. He's even encouraged me to train with Goten at times, talking about how it's natural for Saiyans to have a connection with someone you can trust at your side in battle, and despite him never actually saying so, I honestly think he's proud of the fight we put up against Buu all those years ago. I think it's the only thing that's made me even in the least bit Saiyan in his eyes at all, even thought I wish I've been able to do more since then. 

I just don't know how to be a Saiyan, which probably goes along with why there's this whole side of me I don't think I've found yet. My father's been so damn vague on everything about it he's told me over the years - telling me that I'll know how to_ 'listen to my true instincts when the time comes_'. I would like to think that I know what that means, but I don't think that part of me exists anymore from when he told me. 

My best friend's half Saiyan, but you wouldn't know it by looking at him either. The difference is that he doesn't have a father who's pressured him his whole life to act like something he knows nothing about. In fact, it's been the opposite with Goten. Goku has _encouraged_ his son to act like a human, never forcing him to live up to expectations of what he could never become, no matter how hard he tried. Not wishing that his son had turned out to be more like a fighter of another time instead of who he is now, and putting all these foreign thoughts into his head that make him second guess his every action. 

Every minute we're out here, I can feel myself constantly wanting to touch him and be close to him, but since that night with Marron, we haven't touched at all. I feel so empty not being able to be next to him. Since we've been out here and away from it all, we've been on edge around each other constantly, too - avoiding any unnecessary eye contact, fighting about the stupidest things, nothing sexual between us _whatsoever_. Doing anything to avoid what we're both thinking about by pretending to be completely focused on finding these stupid Dragonballs. Just last week, I nearly got into an all-out fight with him about something completely pointless during some sparring, and I'm not sure whether it was out of anger, or out of resentment that he doesn't seem to be beating himself up about us like I am. 

Day after day, he does nothing but go on and on about feeling bad for Marron. Hurting her. Protecting her. On and on about what we did and how it was so wrong, when what he's regretting was probably the single best experience of our lives, whether he wants to admit it or not. As much as he would like to blame me for the idea to fuse for Marron, he seems to forget that it didn't exactly take a lot to get him to agree to it. 

But it's at night - when I'm supposed to be sleeping that it's been the worst. Staring up at the night sky, going around and around about what to do with these unwelcome feelings for him until I feel like I'm going to scream. I've tried to put a name to what I feel for him, but nothing seems appropriate, and I haven't been sleeping well for months because of it. When I do actually get some sleep, any dreams I have are nothing but sweet torture compared to my reality. So real that when I inevitably wake up with my clothes twisted around me, and my body damp and shaking, I'm almost shocked to find myself alone again. My only consolation is that he appears to be getting as little sleep as I am, but I think it's that both of our nerves are almost at the breaking point, and I'm worried about what will happen should one of us actually snap. I think its all coming down to a battle of wills. 

But I think now that we're on the edge of losing everything we have, I'm starting understand what all of this is really about. My father tried to explain it to me once, but I didn't listen to what he was telling me. I haven't listened to a lot of my instincts regarding my feelings toward Goten, paying more attention to my human side and worrying about being so damn normal instead of realizing that no matter how hard I try, I won't ever _be_ normal. 

I'm half Saiyan, and yet I don't have any idea what it's like to act like a Saiyan, as much as I know that would disappoint my father if he heard his only son say that. I don't know how to listen to my impulses and act on raw instinct. I want to be able to do what is truly in my nature and give into what I need, since it's becoming painfully obvious that I can no longer go without it. 

But what I need is _Goten_. 

How can I tell him that I can't live without him? That our souls are bonded to each other's, and this distance coming between us is killing me? Or that I don't want to make this wish for fear that it will undo _us, _too.   
  
  
  


"I found it!" he finally shouts, holding the Four Star ball high above his head while still buried in the bushes. Without hesitation, he jumps to his feet and unhooks his backpack from off his back, dumping the remaining six on the ground to finally reunite them after being separated for so many years. Their glow immediately starts to pulsate, just like I remember. "Okay, all seven..." he says mater-of-factly, anxiously looking at me to fill in the next step. "... Now what?" 

"What do you mean _now what_? Make the wish. That's what we came out here to do," I say flatly, swallowing what I really want to say instead. But now that it's finally over and we're about to do what we set out to accomplish, I feel completely empty. Almost dreading the outcome. 

He doesn't say a word, just staring slightly puzzled at the pile of glowing orange glass in the weeds, hypnotized by the power we both know that they can bring. It's almost overwhelming. "... Yeah, but... I don't think I know how to phrase it. What _exactly_ are we wishing for here? You have to be careful with these things." 

"... To make it so none of this ever happened to Marron, and just to go back to the way things were before," I say bluntly. It _is_ the truth, I suppose. 

"But how does that work? Would we just... _forget_ everything? Or would we wind up where we started before all of this? I mean..." I detect a hint of desperation in his voice, as if he knows we would be included in that, too. Could it be that he's having second thoughts about this wish? "How far should we go back?" 

I don't answer. I don't want to do it at all. 

"We have to do this for her, Trunks... no matter what the cost, remember? She's the reason we came out here to do this in the first place." 

My heart sinks. "Well... I guess we'll need to have to ask someone. If we make the wrong wish here, we're gonna fuck things up worse than they already are. But who can we-..." 

Once again, we think alike. 

"_Dende!"_   
  
  


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It's been years since I've last been up to the Lookout, but it hasn't changed at all from what I remember. It still has that same illuminesent glow to everything, and it always seems to feel like time is standing still when you're up here. It's a strange presence that few on Earth have ever or will ever experience, but my own experiences of being here aren't exactly memories that I like to visit very often. We caused a lot of destruction to this place when we fused those first few times. I saw my mother get killed up here right in front of me, and soon after learned what it's like to be seven years old and know that you're going to die fighting something you have no chance of defeating. A responsibility that by all rights, a seven-year-old should never have to be faced with, but when you're the last one left, being a kid is no longer an excuse. 

Trunks can understand all of this. 

They were some of the worst times of my life, and this particular trip up here is no exception, as every excuse to come up here is either out of desperation or redemption. Or both. 

We touch down on the edge of the tiled white surface, trying to act as respectful as you can while wearing old beat-up, cut-off cargo shorts and sweat-stained tank tops from over four months of trekking around the continents. Deciding to take the Dragonball hunt on foot seemed like a good idea at the time - my dad always talks about how his search for the Dragonballs as a kid helped him become the man he is today, and under any other circumstance, I would say that our search would have been a great life experience, too. It would have probably even been fun traveling around the world with Trunks in the old days and discovering new places and meeting new people, but I feel like we've been through hell from carrying the weight of our motivation from all of this on our shoulders for so long. 

Our wish will make things different. 

We both instinctively stiffen once we see him approach - worn, wooden staff in hand, acting years older than he actually is from watching a world fall apart on more than one occasion. He's not that much younger than my brother, but his expression reads differently - he doesn't have an easy job. 

"Goten... Trunks... It's nice to see you two again. How have you been?" he asks with genuine interest to our well-being. What else would you expect from the Guardian of the Earth? But he can sense that something is up - we look awful. 

"Uh... not so great, actually," Trunks answers shyly, almost embarrassed at presenting our 'little dilemma' to someone_ in charge of the entire fucking planet_! "In fact, that's why we're here - we need your help with something." 

Dende smiles, switching his staff to his other hand. "I'd be happy to help you with whatever I can. What is it that you need my help with?" 

I try to make light of the situation, but lying is pointless. "We want to use Shelong to undo a mistake we made," I say referencing to the both of us. "But we don't know how to word it." 

The small Namek looks to us puzzled for a moment, not quite getting at what we're asking for. "What do you mean by _undo_? I don't think I understand." 

We take a deep breath together as Trunks proceeds to explain. "We hurt someone we care about, and we're afraid that if we don't wish it away, we'll never be able to undo the damage we've caused to her. We've got all seven Dragonballs with us to make the wish, but..." He stops short once he reads the look of concern over Dende's face. Almost disappointment. 

He speaks apologetically, but firm with the reply. "The Dragonballs are _not_ meant to be used to undo mistakes or wrong decisions. They can't be a substitute for responsibility or judgment, no matter what the reason." 

"But we've spent months looking for them! We have to be able to do this!" I interject, trying not to panic about the likely outcome of this plea. But even as I try to reason with him, there's something deep, deep down inside of me that hopes it isn't going to be possible. "Dende, _please_..." 

"I'm sorry, Goten. That's not what the Dragonballs are intended for." His wise words end the discussion without any question - you just don't argue with the Guardian of the Earth. "They are to be used for things made unjust and for the survival of this planet, not for the things we regret doing. Mistakes are the only way to learn in order to choose the right path. The two of you have to accept the consequences of your actions." 

His words sting my heart. But he's right. 

I swallow the thick lump in my throat, feeling completely lost now that all the work and effort from over four months has been for absolutely nothing. The quick and easy way to fix everything is impossible without defying the one you just _don't defy_, so we're still at the same place where we started. 

One regret. Two aching, lost souls. 

And Marron.   
  
  


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The flight down from the Lookout is a long one. After learning that simply wishing away our problems wasn't possible, we decided to take Dende's advice and leave the Dragonballs with him and Mr. Popo where they would be safe. Sure, we could have wished for anything else we could have thought of, but it's been pretty obvious from the start that making our original wish for Marron was all that we wanted out of them - everything else is our problem. 

But since being faced with having to live with our actions, neither of us have said a word to each other about it the entire way from the Lookout, and now it's gotten to the point where I don't have any idea where to go. I can't just go back home - there's too much waiting for me there. But where does that leave me? Where does that leave Goten? 

I glance over my shoulder to see him flying next to me with the same look of worry and concern on his face I'm sure I have, shrouded by conflict about what to do. The slow setting sun that's just now touching the horizon glows warmly on his face, making it so hard to look away even though I know he can feel me looking at him, but he doesn't turn his focus away from where we're headed... wherever that may be. I've been following him ever since we left the Lookout, and I don't know if he's planning on just going home now and leaving me behind, or what? He knows _I'm_ not going back, which leaves us in a very dangerous place. 

For whatever reason, he picks a spot to land near the bank of a river, softly touching down near the edge of it and walking towards the water. Not a word said, just simply shrugging his shoulders out of the straps of his backpack and letting it fall to the grass with a thud. He takes a seat at the edge of the water on some large rocks, running his hands through his hair and leaving them clasped behind his neck, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his head hang down in defeat. An unsteady exhale trembles his body. 

He's just as lost as I am. 

I keep my distance from where he sits, unclasping my sword from across my chest and finding a place to set it down, wishing that I had something to occupy myself with since now there's nothing left _but_ to sit here in this awful silence with him. Dwelling on the fact that I've finally come to realize why we're here. 

As hard as it is to admit it, Goten stopped being _just Goten_ the minute I stepped into that shower with him all those years ago, which only makes this whole situation with Marron all the clearer - I didn't want her. It was _never_ really about her for me. I just didn't want to believe that someone had the potential of coming between us after all this time, but there she was - sitting in our living room and making him smile like I haven't been able to in years. She was sweet and beautiful and everything that Goten deserves in a girl. But it wasn't so much that she was perfect. Or that she would have looked better with him than she would have ever looked with me. It was that the person he was looking at was finally someone else. Someone was coming between us, and I stopped thinking rationally the minute she became a factor. 

I've been afraid of losing him ever since I was a little kid. I can't even estimate how many nights I've spent imagining the worse - what it would be like to live a life without someone who now holds the same importance to my existence as water or air. I don't want to be this attached and this dependent on anyone, but this has long since developed past something I can deny. He's everything to me. 

My original intention was to seduce Marron and I intended it to be purely for the thrill of the experience. For Marron. For_ all_ of us, really. But once I felt what it was like to experience something so intimate and... forbidden with Goten, I realized what's been missing from my life this whole time, and I can't pretend I don't need it anymore now that I've opened my eyes to it. I finally felt what it was like to be with him. Feeling him inside of me. His emotions, his feelings, everything. 

I've been trying to ignore wanting it for years, even bringing Marron between us to deny it. And sharing him with someone else _was_ the hardest thing I ever had to do, but I saw it as the only way to satisfy what I've been looking for. But it's still there. That growing need for him is still there. I..I need him now more than ever. 

But he only talks about _her_. And _her_ feelings. Never about what this has done to us. What he's doing to me. 

_God, where is this jealousy coming from?! _I'm not fucking in love with my best friend! It's different with Goten. I mean, I realize there's a mental connection there, and I'm fully aware that I _physically_ desire him - I've come to terms with that a long time ago. But... _what is this then_? There isn't a label for a relationship where you refuse to love. 

But do I _want_ to? Do I love him? It _that _what this is? 

And in that case, what exactly does he feel for me? Throughout the countless arguments we've had on the subject over this trip and in the past, he's never once used the word 'love' to describe how he feels. Does that mean that it's purely physical for him? 

Then how long can this physical need go on without eventually feeling love? 

I don't want to think about it anymore. 

My time to dwell on this has only made matters worse, since the more I try to shut out my feelings for him, the more I hate myself for it. I can feel his conflict. I know he can't stop thinking about it anymore than I can. I need him to tell me that I'm not alone in this, and to admit that he needs me as much as I need him.   
  
  
  


I sit quietly with my back against the tree, rapidly losing track of time as I follow the sun as it disappears behind the mountains. Drowning in my thoughts about what to do about watching the last thing in my life I truly need remain completely indifferent to my torment. Wondering if this is it - the end of everything. It becomes almost too much. I need to know. 

"Well... what now?" I ask rather weakly, not convincing either of us with my lack of confidence that I still have it together. 

But he doesn't respond. 

"We have to think of _something_, Chibi," I plead with such hopelessness, needing him to assure me that it's going to work out. I feel like I'm being torn apart. 

He responds idly looking out to the water, "There's nothing to think about." 

"Like hell there isn't! Do you have a plan to fix all of this that you haven't told me about?" I'm coming across far more hostile about this than I want to, but it's just my nature to demand answers - to take control of the situation even when I'm not. I'm through with fucking around. "What about _us_, huh? What happens to us now?" 

His body becomes tense, like what I'm saying is making him uncomfortable. But he still doesn't say anything. 

I can't take this. "_Goten, fucking turn around and look at me already!_" I snap at him sharply, raising my voice to demand his attention. It occurs to me that it's been a while since I've called him by his name. I have to strain my hearing to hear his response, nothing more than an exhale of breath barely audible over the rushing water over the rocks. 

"Go fuck yourself, Trunks." 

And without even that split second of leeway you get to think twice about your actions, or to see what the consequences will be if you make them, I react, hitting him hard from behind and sending him flying into the water face first, just missing the rocks by a couple of inches. I didn't even use that much force, but it wasn't exactly like he saw it coming either. I've_ never_ lost my temper with Goten enough to take such a cheap shot. _What am I doing?_

He scrambles to his feet in the waist high water, completely shocked at what happened and barely able to speak. "What th-..." He's pissed. "_What the fuck is wrong with you?!_" 

"Well, answer me already! I'm fucking killing myself over here about what to do, and you look like you couldn't give a shit about what happens!" I start to lose control of the anger in my voice. "I don't know what to do, _okay_? I need you to tell me everything's going to be all right. Don't you know what's happening here? I can't sit here and watch us fall apart like this." 

He walks out of the water and roughly pulls his wet shirt over his head, wringing it out forcefully in front of me and throwing it to the ground before opening his mouth. He waits a second to compose himself so as not to scream or yell like I thought he would. Maybe he knows what I'm talking about after all? "We can't be like this anymore, Trunks. Don't you see _that_? Look at all that's happened _because of us_! We can't..." 

"Then what was that whole talk about not giving a shit about what everyone else thinks, huh? That you don't care that there isn't a label for us? That we're 'different'? Was that all bullshit, too?" 

"It's... it's just different now, okay? It's not like before when it was just us. Before... fusing that night." He looks so lost with his intentions, but I refuse to cave into the argument about this again, even if the sides have switched since the last time. "Everything's changed." 

"Then stop fighting it and let it happen! It's just us now!" 

He reluctantly drops his focus to the ground, afraid to show me his eyes, knowing that they will paint a different story. Speaking with words that sound forced and planned for this occasion specifically, "I'm... just not like that, Trunks. I'm attracted to _girls_ and I know you are too, so stop doing this." 

"You know I'm not fucking talking about that!" I hit low, "But if you think that way, then tell me why you never seem to have a girlfriend?" 

His hands turn to fists, biting back his anger and closing his eyes. I've struck a nerve. "Fuck you." 

"Then tell me why you like it so much when I get you off, and when I..." 

"Shut the fuck up!" he grits through his teeth, shoving me backwards, daring me to hit him back. Ki spiked through the roof. Hurt and anger piercing throughout his voice. "That's different! That... that's all different. We-..." 

I cut him off, "No! Now _you _shut up! We fucked around when we were kids because we were curious and didn't think anything of it, but _we're not fucking kids anymore_, Goten, and we haven't been for a pretty long time! There's no excuse for what we do when we're both old enough to get it from someone else if we really felt that way about it. We're like this because... we _need_ this," I scream at him, quickly losing my temper and hold of the panging hurt in my chest. "Do you think I sleep with all those girls because I want to find a girlfriend? Or a wife? I fuck them because I _can, _and I don't give a shit if that makes me an asshole or a prick for doing it because I never wanted anything from it in the first place. They don't mean anything to me, Goten. They don't know me. Or my family. Or what I am, or why I have these marks on my back. Do you honestly think I could just walk up to one of them and tell them all about what it feels like to fuse, or what I have that little scar at the base of my spine? And how it feels knowing I've disappointed my father because I can't live up to being the last Prince of a race I know almost nothing about?" 

My voice starts to crack and lose its power from what I'm saying. "And... telling them about us. About you and me and why I need you in my life. That I can't live without it." I fist my hands tightly, now wishing that I could take back what I'm telling him, but I forget that he already knows. "That we're not human and that there's something between us that we can't ignore anymore. That I can't live without you." 

He doesn't move. Not even to blink. Have I scared him? _Goten, please say something_. 

He refuses to hear it, shaking his head at hearing me pour my heart out to him when I know he's doing everything he can to reject his own emotions from betraying him. He knows I'm right. "I... I thought you understood that... that we can't..." 

My jaw clenches in frustration. I feel myself beginning to lose control of my composure. "What don't I fucking understand, Chibi? _What?!_" My anger is cutting through me again. Or is it that I'm hurt?"I know _everything_ about you. You wanted that night as much as I did because it was the only way to express what we both wanted without stepping over a line that we're too fucking scared to cross on our own. Marron was just a factor that allowed us to let go of everything without changing the situation, and as much as I really regret bringing her into all of this - _I really do_, Goten - I only wanted it because of you. The both of us... I..." I can barely finish. I need him to know what I'm trying to say. "We have Saiyan blood in our veins, Chibi. We're not like everyone else. There are things inside of us that we have to give into. _I know you understand_." 

He doesn't dare lift his head from facing the ground as I step up to him, but I can see the pain on his face glittering in the last light of dusk, dripping down his cheeks. His breathing noticeably quickens once I get close. Enough so that I can feel his body heat radiating from his wet, bare chest - flexed, trembling, on guard to whatever might happen. 

"W-why are you saying this? Please... Trunks, d-don't... don't ruin everything like this..." He's losing the battle, yet still urges me to back down. But I can't. 

I press my forehead to his, looking down at the same spot he's been fixed on as I hold his forearms at his sides, feeling that slight twinge of resistance in his muscles that resembles nothing more than a flinch. "We're... bonded to each other, Chibi. And I know you're afraid to let this happen, but I'm afraid too, _okay_? I don't know what to do either, but I know we can't ignore this anymore. Don't you feel it now?" 

I close my eyes and wrap my arms tightly around his shoulders. Not as an embrace, but more for an assurance that he won't run away, whispering painfully quiet into his ear and holding back a lifetime of desperation of the most basic emotion I have yet to give into. His hot breath on tickles my ear and neck, sending tiny shivers across my skin. But he doesn't pull away. 

"..._ I need you_."   
  
  


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My breath inhales sharply and I squeeze my eyes shut, releasing a single hiccupped sob as I press my cheek to his shoulder and clamp my arms tightly around his back in return. I can feel his body tremble against mine with his own doubt, but he doesn't release - only holding on tighter as if to find the strength somewhere within us. I marvel at the feeling of rightness that comes with being in his arms like this. Holding each other in such a different way than we ever have before. But still, underlying that feeling of coming home is that deep-rooted sense that something has only begun to unfold that I have yet to understand. 

I suppress my fear as I unexpectedly feel him beginning to drag his lips against the damp skin of my neck, breathing heavy like an animal about to attack his prey. Deeply inhaling my scent as though it's giving him some unparalleled strength that he doesn't know what to do with. My arms lose their strength slightly, letting them fall to his waist, sensing the hair on the back of my neck standing up on end. I'm too scared to move. 

"Ineed to hear you say it, Chibi," he begs. 

Almost too scared to breathe. 

"_Trunks...._" I murmur in a breath, asking for that last shred of resistance that I no longer have. 

He presses his face to the side of my neck with a moan, pressing his lips to precise places across the corded muscles under the fusion markings on my shoulder. His teeth barely graze my skin, silently begging for me to grant him permission to continue and give into this. Into the last essential urge that this growing part of us needs to have. 

He aches desperately under his voice, rasping against my neck with the agony of trying to restrain his control. "_Goten, please_." 

My knees become weak. I feel drunk. 

_Hold nothing back_. 

And I jump off the edge of disaster I've been dancing on for so long. "I... need you. _Oh god... I-I've wanted_... _I want this_." 

I flex my entire frame against him, desperate to be in as much contact with his body as I possibly can. Half of me wants to fall to my knees and finish what we started, but the other half - the half I don't understand - tells me to run and never, ever stop. 

Holding on to each other with growing intensity, I choke back my fear, as we remain crushed together without movement other than the involuntary trembling of our breath. His grip tightens around my arms with the passing of each excruciating second, trying not to think about what we're doing or where we're going with this, and whatever conflict our minds and bodies have had before about what we're doing is rapidly dissolving into a white hot blur. We're both riding on some kind of primal tendency I never thought even existed, and I finally feel like I'm tapping into my instincts that have long been forgotten. 

He leans forward to my ear with shaken hesitation, grabbing a fist full of my hair and clutching on to my shoulder with unnecessary force. His breathing becomes ragged - so has my own, and his hot breath on my neck awakens me to feel something new overpowering my body that's been dying to come out. For the first time, we're truly allowing ourselves to let go. 

Scared to death of what's happening to us - scared of what will. 

His tension echoes my own. The human side of us is beginning to fade. 

"_Goten_..." he wines with needing desperation. Grip becoming more forceful, shaking under his own strength to suppress whatever it is that is so yearning to be unleashed. He looks up to me with a feral look in his eyes that I've _never_ seen before - amid all the pain and fear and helplessness from everything that's happening - and I do exactly what my first instinct tells me to. 

I run like hell. 

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::**_ to be continued_** :: **please review** :: 


	12. PART SIX concluded

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion   


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**~** PART SIX (continued) **~**

  
  
  


I tear into the forest of dense trees in a blind race to escape what's happening. Bushes and low limbs scrape at my bare skin, but not slowing me down in the least. Above the hammering of my heart in my throat, I can hear him in hot pursuit as the sound of undergrowth crunches loudly in his wake. His heavy breathing right behind me fuels my desire to continue the chase, and with each footfall, my sense of panic increases. I've become illogically convinced that something unspeakable is chasing me, instead of just the boy I've known my entire life. 

Pounding footsteps. 

Harsh panting that morphs in one terror induced moment into something almost animalistic. 

My only thought should be that I have to get away before it catches me. 

But I _want_ to be caught.   
  
  


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I quickly close the distance between us. My power level climbs to heights I haven't experienced in years, enough so that I'm forgetting how hard it is to contain it. Hair beginning to stand up on end, crackling with raw electricity. Without even trying, my adrenaline surges dramatically and I pick up incredible speed, making me almost light-headed from the blood pumping through my veins so fast, like I'm tapping into energy that's been pent up for too long. 

Pushing off the trees in my way, crushing rocks and branches under my feet. I get up right behind him, taunting him for a second with the fact that I'm only inches from his ear - letting him know that no matter how fast he runs, no matter what he does,_ I'm_ going to win. 

I tackle him to the ground, slamming his face into the moist dirt and using all of my body weight to keep him pinned to the rich forest floor, hearing the breath force out of his chest as he chokes and gasps for air. But I perhaps forget too often that Goten has that slight height advantage over me, and he doesn't hesitate to use it once he's composed again. Those two and a half inches seem to work in his favor, and he flips me over with what seems like a surprisingly little amount of effort, turning his body sideways to hold my head down with his hand, the other pressed to the middle of my chest. No words. Just a loud growl from deep within him as he bears his teeth above me, daring me to fight back. 

And that's the snap. 

That hot, familiar rip of power courses through me, more than doubling my strength and visibly expanding the muscles around my frame. With almost no force exerted on my part, I throw him off my body and slam him back into a tree on the other side of the clearing, proud of my ability to still be able to dominate him when it all comes down to a battle of strength. It takes him a second to recover, but mostly from shock - it's been a long time since he's seen me transform, but by doing it, he knows I'm not fucking around. 

_This is for real, Chibi._

Without any time wasted, he immediately follows my lead and pushes his power up a couple of notches to match mine perfectly, defined and flexed from achieving a state only three others have achieved in the past thousand years. The cords of his neck become taut from the supreme effort used to hold his power in check. Watching me. Swallowing me whole with his eyes. 

But it's the sight of him - his body at it's maximum and ready to attack - that pushes me over that last edge of all control. 

The leaves on the trees blow upwards from the sheer force he emits, and I only now notice the living energy around him gravitating into his body, using an art he knows I don't have and could never master. Ever since his father returned from Otherworld, he's taught his youngest son the art of pulling energy from nature, connecting him to his surroundings to become a part of the living Earth. I've secretly tried to do it myself a few times, but I don't have that gift like Goten does. His skin starts to glow, radiating a soft white light that makes him look like an angel misplaced among mortals. 

He looks… beautiful. 

Pants soaking wet and clinging to his body, barely hanging onto his hips, hair spiked wildly. Sweat glistening off of his bare chest from the unique illumination of energy he's creating. His power level has well since exceeded mine, but he doesn't attack. Instead, he locks his focus onto mine, just standing there as he drops his head back slightly to openly expose the thick muscles of his neck. The smug look on his face taunts me, admitting that he actually wants _me _to attack first, and I can feel the urge to lunge forward and claim what is mine rapidly starting to slip.   
  
  


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He lunges at me and growls with satisfied approval as his face finds its way to my neck again, squeezing my arms with his hands, furiously clawing to overpower my body. My hands snap free and I fall back against the tree, hitting my head on the hard, unforgiving surface of the wood as every fiber of my body pretends to break free. But I'm not fooling either of us - the struggle is making him wilder, and it's exactly what I want. I grab a fistful of his stiff golden hair - keeping his face pressed to the break of my neck as I take him down to the ground with me, hearing him groan with each deep inhale of my scent that fills his lungs. 

He pushes off of me, but the fight ceases for only a moment, enough that he reaches around his waist and tears his shirt off of his body with one pull over his head, throwing the torn scraps of it to the side. My hands find their way to linger on his rigid abdomen for a moment as he rises to his feet, slowly breaking the contact I already find myself missing. I reluctantly stand back up, not even bothering to brush the dirt off my body or wipe away the trickle of blood running down my forehead, now dripping into my eye and down my cheekbone. 

We size each other up as we pace back and forth, carefully circling as we maintain the distance between us. We both know there's a lot more to this than just another spar alone in the woods. More than the routine training we've done our whole lives to compete for winning. This one's for dominance. 

We lunge for it. 

A wet fist connects with my face. 

The crack of a rib under my foot. 

There's no mercy for anything. 

We beat the shit out of each other, and with each punch and kick that connects with our aching bodies, I only crave this more. I've never craved violence. Not like Trunks has. In fact, I've done everything to avoid it. But the ache of pain and raw power I inflict on him is quickly becoming addicting. With a hard crunch, I slam his beaten body up against the same tree trunk I had hit myself only moments ago, using more force that I've _ever_ used with Trunks before. Neither of us is holding back in the slightest, and had this been any other time, we would have stopped long before any bones were broken, and way before I could taste my own blood in my mouth - or at least once it had gotten this point. But then again, this isn't just any other time. 

I lose my balance and we fall to the ground again, knees and elbows digging into our bruised bodies with little consideration as we roll over each other to fight for some solid leverage. But as I squint and try to clear the blood and sweat out of my eyes, he catches me off guard and twists my wrist behind my back, rendering me useless to fight back without breaking my own arm. He rolls me over onto my stomach, using all of his weight to keep me pinned under him and digs his knee into my lower back, twisting my arm even farther and looking for the scream of defeat that I refuse to give him. 

Heavy, taxing breaths. Slowly submitting to his grip, I finally give in and stop struggling. Gradually, I can feel him dropping out of his transformation, and I release my own to bring my power level back to normal, arching my lower back slightly, and subconsciously pushing up into the rock-hard erection I can feel poking me from behind. But I'm just as aroused as he is and I need to touch him. I don't care if I've lost the fight at this point - it's becoming too much to hold back. 

He pulls me roughly up against his chest as he sits back on his knees, hot skin melting to mine, slick with sweat and flexed with an unusual amount of unrefined energy. His grip on my wrist slips away, and he wraps his arms possessively around my shoulders from behind, whispering something close to my ear that I can barely make out as a desperate plea of his need for me. 

I maneuver myself within the circle of his arms to face him, and without looking, I immediately go for the buckle of his belt to get into his shorts. Hot breath against my cheek, hands squeezing my biceps. I help him kick his pants off his lower legs, ending up with my best friend completely naked in the middle of the forest floor, alone for miles in every direction. It's not like we haven't been in this state before - I've seen Trunks naked hundreds of times. Hell, there have been times I've even had to wash his come off my face, but somehow I get the feeling that just getting each other off right now won't be like any other time we've done it. 

Before I can grab a hold of him, he suddenly leans into my face, stopping less than an inch from touching me, save his nose brushing up against my cheekbone. I wonder for a second what he's about to do, but as soon as the thought has time to process, I feel his warm tongue licking up the side of my cheek, catching the trickle of blood from the cut on my forehead he gave me from tackling me to the ground earlier. I automatically try to flinch away, but I can manage nothing other than to grab hold of his shoulders with not much more than a strangled whimper of protest escaping me. I close my eyes. _Nnnn_... I don't want him to stop. 

His tongue trails down to my jaw line where the blood has dripped, softening his touch over the many fresh abrasions and scrapes on my face from our fight. I grip his arms tighter, squeezing his taut muscles relentlessly - enough to probably bruise by the way it's making him exhale sharply against my neck. But the way his body shudders against my own tells me that he welcomes it. Wants it. Maybe even _requires_ it. 

The sounds coming from his throat rumbles deep into my chest, as he now nudges his nose back up around my face until he awkwardly - possibly even _accidentally_ - brushes his lips against mine with the slightest possible touch. Warm. So soft. Like velvet. Only for a second, but it makes my curiosity for this taboo we're playing with to quickly get the best of me, and I'm rapidly losing all inhibitions to not do something I'll regret later. 

I make a deliberate attempt to 'accidentally' touch his lips again in return, and he doesn't move away or give any indication that I'm stepping over the invisible line we're both trying to avoid. He's thinking the same thing I am - we want more, but... _my god, what the fuck are we doing?!_

The intensity between us is getting completely out of control. Shaking, unsteady hands exploring each other's bodies like we're touching each other for the first time. Licking salty skin, aroused almost to the point of pain and fevered with need. During all this, my wet, clinging shorts somehow find their way off my hips and get kicked to the side, leaving us completely naked and all over each other as we kneel together on the forest floor, hungry to satisfy each other like there's no tomorrow. 

But he stops. 

_Oh god, Trunks - please don't stop now!_

He bends over to reach behind me and grab a small rock off the ground about the size of his hand. Sitting straight up and without any explanation, he cracks it in his fist, breaking it into two sharp, jagged pieces. Keeping the sharper half, he tosses the other somewhere behind me, studying the one he chose carefully and taking a deep, hesitant breath. Almost scared to do whatever he wants to do with it, though I'm left completely in the dark and slightly concerned that this will somehow involve me. 

"Trunks...?" 

His blue eyes meet mine with burning intensity, silently asking for me to trust him. I don't give him any indication that I don't, but I find myself completely unprepared for what he does next. 

With nothing more than a bite of his lower lip and a suppressed grunt of pain, he consciously makes a slice with the sharp end of the stone into the top his arm, opposite of his fusion markings, right through the thick muscle of his shoulder. Not a simple cut, mind you - more of a deep, jagged slice that will surely leave a nasty scar once it heals. But he never takes his eyes off of mine, staring deep into a side of me that somehow completely understands what he's doing. 

I swallow hard at the fact that this has all just become a lot more real than I thought it would. I may not truly understand all of our Saiyan instincts, especially now that we're full on letting them happen, but it's starting to become clear as to what he's doing with the stone. 

It takes a second for the blood to start dripping down his arm, running off his fingertips in thin streams from the open wound, but he doesn't tend to it or even look to see what kind of damage he's done. Completely disregarding the wound that has to hurt like hell as his eyes remained fixed on mine. Instead, he holds my opposite shoulder to keep me in place and rips a quick, deliberate gash through the skin over my breastbone, cutting deep into the pectoral muscle over my heart. I don't dare flinch, even though the shock of what he's done has caught me completely by surprise, and the sting from being exposed to the cool night air sends immediate chills up my back. I remain on my knees before him, watching him for what comes next, thickly swallowing the pain of his action. 

And he offers me the rock. 

I stare at the bloodied stone in his hand, afraid I won't know what to do with it and what taking it will mean. But with a softened smile curled at the corner of his mouth, he silently reassures me that I do. I've almost forgotten that it is Trunks who I'm with, and I return the smile I've seen so many times before. 

I instinctively take it from his hand and follow through with what we started, focusing my attention on the seriousness of what we're doing. I repeat on myself what he has done to his own shoulder, clenching my jaw tightly, and feeling the skin split as I cut into it to match his own self-inflicted laceration. But it's the look in his eyes as I do this - boring into my soul with intensity that I've never seen him use - that makes me burn with desire I've never craved before now. I take his arm to pull him closer and drag the rock through the skin over his heart, making an identical mark on his body like he has done to mine, and creating an aching groan of satisfaction that vibrates through his chest in reaction to the primal act. Almost immediately, blood starts dripping down to his abdomen, and without even so much as a second thought to contemplate what I'm doing, I lean forward and lick the wound I made on him, intoxicated by the mixture of coppery blood and salt from his skin on my tongue. I eagerly lap at the damage and I look up to see him watching me with half lidded eyes, needing me as much as I need him, assuring me that what I'm doing is exactly what he wants. 

I take a final lick, drunk on the taste of him, savoring the feeling of something I've never imagined I'd ever experience. I'm becoming aware of my Saiyan heritage more than I even have in my entire life, even though I'm running on blind instinct as to what it is we're actually doing. It just seems to be programmed into my body, and only now am I giving it that chance to be unleashed like it should. 

I continue to watch him as he presses his palm flat against the gash on my chest, wiping away the fresh blood that's still leaking from my open wound to cover his palm with red. With precise and calculated actions, he proceeds to smudge his index finger across his cheekbone, leaving a smear of my blood on his face like a warrior ready for battle. I follow his lead exactly, making the final mark to symbolize what we really are - comrades, partners. _Soul mates_. 

We remain facing each other on our knees, now presented with the reality that we've now become something very different because of what we've done. Not because we've performed such a primal ritual - one probably not performed to this extent with two beings of Saiyan blood since our race had been destroyed - but from the fact that we've become something we no longer have to ignore anymore. I've been connected with Trunks since I've been too young to remember. But only now - after a lifetime of refusing to listen to our souls and denying ourselves the most basic needs that have always been there - have we finally learned to accept our bond. 

He leans forward into me again and I sit back on my heels, this time his hands rest on my thighs as he presses his cheek to my shoulder. Nuzzling his way up my neck with his nose. Running his hands up to the break of my hips. My own hands are already on him, and any tension I had in my body before is gone as I continue to trail my hands down his arms, flattening them over his and feeling the energy he's giving me, gently surging through my body. 

Nothing said. 

Only pounding heartbeats. Shaking, ragged breath. 

I tilt my head to meet his eyes, finding they have the same aching lost feeling as I have - desperate for the strength we've never tested before now. He presses his lips to my jaw line with something that vaguely resembles a kiss - more so than what he was doing before - gently sucking and I can feel the heat of his mouth on my skin. Tracing his nose around my chin, touching my lips. Encouraging me to let him. 

I close my eyes as his warm tongue licks a smear of blood off my bottom lip, lingering longer than needed before closing his mouth to fully taste something so precious to him, made obvious by the low moan coming from his throat. I can manage nothing except to remain perfectly still as he hesitates tentatively before doing it again, despite the fact that there probably isn't anything left on my lips to lick. He continues. Only this time, my tongue meets his. 

Tasting him. Barely touching him. Grazing, licking against his lips. Languidly coaxing his tongue to intertwine with mine. 

My hands grip tighter over his, now digging into my flesh as our lips start making the slightest contact. Our ministrations more and more deliberate. We inhale deeply, letting our lips fully touch each other's without trying to keep the distance anymore. Crushing them together, deepening the kiss and fully sealing my mouth to his. Unleashing an entire lifetime's worth of frustration and aggression that has never been allowed to be tried before now. Aching to find that release - the assurance to tell me that what I'm doing is right and isn't just another blind mistake. Breathing heavy, desperately satisfying something that feels so right. Wanting to find what I've been looking for ever since the moment I learned that Trunks Briefs was more than just a boy who was half-Saiyan like me, and to fulfill a desire I've had for him since I was too young to understand it.   
  
  


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I give in to temptation and part my lips. Kissing him. Hard. 

Touching him. Tasting him. 

With a loud groan in my mouth, he pulls me up hard against his body and kisses me back, leaving no part of my mouth or tongue untouched by his own. Desperate to satisfy that growing need between us that has been unleashed like a flood in a desert. My breath deepens and I can still taste the bitterness of my blood on his tongue, clutching at his shoulders, grabbing hold of him in a futile attempt to anchor myself from the force building between us. He responds by grabbing my wrists to pull me even closer to him - molding me to his perfect body - but despite his encouraging nudges and licks, I break away. 

Grinding our hips together and feeling how hard he is pushes me to the point of almost losing it. 

He licks the palm of his hand and grabs hold of my arousal, massaging me with long slippery strokes, but with _nowhere_ near the amount of force I need right now. His lips meet mine again, harder this time, moaning into my mouth as his tongue takes on a life of its own. Wanting to be touched. But it isn't enough to _just_ be touched. 

Without breaking contact with the pleasure he's giving me - with either his mouth or hand - I snake my arm around his back and drape his leg over my hip, running my hand up his thigh, sculpted from a lifetime of conditioning. The physical contact between us is more than we've ever had with each other, and we're close enough for me to feel his erection pressed to my abdomen, begging to be touched. 

I take his hand off of me and push him roughly up against the base of the tree behind him. Hooking both my arms under his knees, and pushing his thighs up against his chest, spreading his legs wide open, pinning him helplessly against my body. His eyes widen for a moment, as do mine. I actually had no idea Goten was _this_ flexible, but it's making it harder to not to come too quickly. I want to hold back. But I want so much more. _Goten, what the fuck are we doing?_   
  
  


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He buries his face in the crook of my neck, painfully dragging his lips over my shoulder and pushing my knees forcefully up into my chest. Not sure of what to do, even though we're in a position that really only reads one thing. I tilt my head to the side to slightly expose the vulnerable column of my neck to his hungry mouth. He nuzzles his cheek against mine with growing need, gasping for air as his labored breath touches pleasurably against the newly broken skin on my shoulder. 

I'm scared and desperate all at the same time, finding myself wanting Trunks to do it, no matter what it will make of me. No matter what this will make of _us_. His erection presses firmly at my entrance, still slippery from what I was doing to him just a moment ago and slick from the heavy sweat and blood dripping off of our bodies. The need for him to be inside me is... is _overwhelming_. 

This is what we've come to - nervous, heaving breaths on our skin. Unable to swallow. Begging for something - _anything_ - to happen since the position we're in doesn't leave for a lot of options. _Trunks, please don't think any less of me because I want this_... 

He bites his lip with a muffled sob, too scared to make that final thrust despite the fact that I know he wants to. I want him to. I want him inside my body so badly I'm quickly losing my fear of what's to come if we continue where we're going.. 

He removes his arm from under my knee, and grabs a hold of his rock-hard erection, sliding it around the only place I want him to put it. Desperate, involuntary moans escape my throat as I silently plead for him to..._ to_... 

I inhale with a sharp hiss of pain as he deliberately pushes forward, smoothly guiding the tip of himself into my body with loud groans of frustration from having to go so slowly. _Oh... god... this fucking hurts!_

"_Nnnh, Trr...u-unks_...." 

But he knows. 

He mumbles some weird version of my name, sounding just as scared as I am that he needs this as much as he does. His muscles tense, shuddering with a mix of anticipation and hesitation as he slides his sweat-soaked body against mine, leaning all of his weight up against me. After taking a deep, shaky breath, he finds the courage to continue and pushes in deeper without using his hand to guide him, slowly giving me more and more of his thick length to get used to as he refrains from pounding me into the tree. 

I grit my teeth, grabbing chunks of bark from behind me and growling deep in my chest as I try to suppress the sting from being stretched by him. A feeling I can barely make sense of. But once he fills me completely, he holds still for a second, patiently waiting for me to tell him it's okay to move since I've forgotten to exhale. He whispers something inaudible close to my ear and it doesn't take long for it all to subside into something more pleasurable. I slowly adjust to the feeling of this tight fit as it soon becomes replaced by a dull aching throb, turning my bones into liquid fire and making me crawl out of my skin with a want I didn't know ever existed. It hurts so badly, but is fast becoming a pain I don't know how I ever lived without before now.   
  
  


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He sobs against me as I begin to thrust in and out of him, gradually pumping into his body with more and more speed and force, lost in the feeling of how tight and complete he feels around me. It's beginning to become unclear as to where I end and he begins. 

I press my face against his cheek, grabbing on to the exposed roots of the tree for leverage as I'm now driving mercilessly into his body. Overwhelmed. Almost senseless with sheer need. My breath comes in short, sharp bursts, squeezing my eyes tight as my body defies me in every way. Powerful, steady thrusts rock us in perfect rhythm and I thrill in the feeling of his perfect body now totally submitting beneath mine, wrapping his free leg around my waist and clutching himself to my body. 

I get ahead of myself. I'm almost starting come already, but I desperately hold it back using every ounce of restraint I've ever possessed. With a sharp spike in my strength, I'm able to stop before I finish, making my groin hurt like a bitch from holding back my orgasm half-way, but from my apparent lack of control, I've made this so much more slippery and impossible to resist. _Reserved _and _gentle _are words no longer in my vocabulary. 

I pound into him wildly as he squeezes his muscles around me with a tightness I didn't think was possible to experience. I grab hold of his neglected arousal, which has up until now not had any attention, and - knowing Goten - is probably hardened to the point of pain. I reach down and pump my hand over him in perfect rhythm to my thrusts, creating soft whimpers of pleasure from his chest as I angle my hips to bury myself even deeper inside. I can't imagine what this feels like for him, but I can barely tell where I am anymore. This has become that lost feeling I've been looking my whole life to fulfill. 

His breathing becomes labored, harsher. Cheeks flushed red. Twitching under my hand. He's so close. 

I cry out harshly as I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood, crushing him up against the base of the tree. With one final push over the edge, I explode inside of him, just as his own hot sticky fluid drips down my chest and over the hand that continues to milk him of his orgasm until the last shudders wrack through his body. Despite each additional thrust wringing tiny whimpers of delightful agony from us, it's apparently obvious that neither of us wanted to stop. 

We don't move. 

Crushed up against the foot of the tree. My arm's still hooked under his knee and pressing my body weight into him as we struggle to catch our breath. Reluctantly, I withdraw from his body, releasing his leg from being pressed in such an awkward position, and sink down to lie on his body, too tired to do anything else. We're a mess. 

"Trunks..." he whispers softly, creating a warm ache in my groin from hearing his voice. 

"_I know, Chibi._" 

I lazily press my face to his other shoulder - the one that bares the mark we share representing the blood we have shed for each other in battle - in our lives. Bonding us as comrades like all the Elite Saiyans have done before us. But it's the mark over his heart - the one_ I_ gave to him - just as he has given me - that binds us to each other like I somehow always knew we would be. I gently begin to lick away the fresh damage of the wound with my tongue, causing his breath to hitch from the sudden softening of my touch, melting the throb of pain away to open the flood gates of two previously restrained souls. 

I've been bonded to Goten his entire life. It's just taken us twenty-four years to see it.   
  
  


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:: **_to be continued_** ::** please review** ::   
  
  


***Author's Notes~**   
_I've started a pretentious mailing list for the updates and progress of this fic and the link to it is located on my bio page._   
_If in the event that both Fanfiction.net and Mediaminer.org crash at the same time (again)_   
_and I can't post when the next chapter's ready, I can at least send it directly to you guys instead! ^_^_


	13. PART SEVEN

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion   


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~ PART SEVEN **~**

  
  
  


Soft light. Birds in the distance. 

Everything's so quiet. I can hear my heartbeat. 

Goten. 

He's gone, but I can feel him close. Somewhere nearby. 

I lazily rub the sleep from my eyes, although I can't imagine I could have been out of it for_ that_ long - the sun isn't even up yet. Everything still has that blue haze to it. It's kinda like I'm waking up from the craziest dream of my life, but I'm not sure where the reality ended and the dream began. Through my daze, I can barely remember how I fell asleep. 

My eyes sting from accidentally wiping some grit into them from the heel of my palms. I squint to tear it out, noticing that my whole body is a mess, covered in everything from blood, to dirt, to... 

_Oh_. 

I sit up and slump back on my hands, trying to focus my mind to clearly recall how I wound up like this. 

It's still hard to believe, even now. I can't say that I haven't explored the thought of this happening more than a few times in my life, but I never imagined it happening like this. I figured things between the two of us would eventually go too far some random night after drinking, stumbling into bed together half unconscious, half drunk. I just never thought it would happen when we were _both_ completely aware of it! But now that it's happened, I'm glad we were. 

Mist and dew from the forest floor chills my skin. My muscles ache. Neck sore. I reluctantly get to my feet and stretch until I hear that morning crack in my back, balancing against the tree and being careful not to stretch the skin over the soft scab on my chest that's still a little tender to touch. I try not to stare at it, but I can't help it. It means so much to have it - I know my father would think the same, although I'm not sure how he would react to learning that_ Goten_ was the one that gave it to me. I wonder if he would care. But thinking back about it, I wonder if he didn't know already. 

I touch the darkened purple bruising around it. I feel so strong. My senses are awake and sharply attuned to everything more than they've ever been before. 

I decide that I should find him.   
  
  
  


I span quite a large area of the forest, being quiet and soft with my steps like I'm afraid to wake someone out here. I've slept outdoors with Goten as a kid all the time, but compared to the concrete world I've been living in for so long, the crunch of dried leaves and branches under my feet is sounding more unfamiliar than I'd like it to be. Even this time away - out here looking for Dragonballs like two kids who ran away from home - we still managed to stay close enough to civilization to get a decent hotel to crash in at the end of the day. I'm starting to wish we had roughed it from the beginning. Maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe this is what we should have gotten out the open all along. I somehow doubt we would even be in this mess in the first place had we not been letting all of this all build up until now. 

I can already hear the flow of the stream where it started, just on the other side of the hill beyond the edge of the forest. I guess we ran a lot farther last night than I thought we did. I quietly look past the last of the big trees and find him exactly where I thought I would. Doing just what I figured he would be doing here. 

From only a few feet behind him, I watch quietly so as to not disturb him while he remains crouched down on some rocks in the middle of the water, looking downstream, lost in whatever thoughts weigh heavy on his mind. He wrings out a scrap of my shirt to gently wipe away the trickle of blood dripping down his arm again, moving just enough so that the pale light glitters off the water beaded over his skin. I trail my focus down the hard ridges of muscle on the back that has been molded so far from the little boy I once knew. Over his Fusion markings and down to his tail scar... I don't know why it never occurred to me that even before last night, we've been sharing markings on our bodies that have bound us for longer than I can remember. It's so obvious that this has been our fate all along. 

His eyes remain fixed on the breaking ripples over the rocks. His presence balanced someplace between the gentle boy I have known my entire life, and the man I have yet to meet. I can't deny that I haven't stared at him like this before, although now it doesn't seem so... _something_. 

"How long you been awake?" I ask, already assured that I won't startle him - he knows I've been standing here. 

"A while. Couldn't sleep," he responds quietly, still idly tending to his shoulder, but not seeming all that concerned about it - his mind is someplace else. He waits a moment before continuing. "Our things were stolen. Sometime during the night, I think." Again, no tone or variation in his softened voice. "Your sword's gone, too." 

My sword. 

I grit my teeth at my carelessness of leaving it, but I didn't exactly plan on taking off when I originally set it down yesterday. I don't even know why I brought it with us in the first place. Did I honestly think I would need it out here? I guess a part of me still takes pride in having a mastery of my weapon - I have ever since I was a kid. But regardless, even though it's not exactly something I can _replace_, the fact that any possession of mine is gone - no matter how important to me - couldn't mean less right now. How could I be concerned about anything material in the face of all that's happened? 

I walk into the water as I try to grit out its chilled temperature without a gasp, suppressing a shiver from the cold rushing over my naked skin. I stop just beside the large rock he's on until the water barely comes up to the break of my hips. I wait for a sign to show me how he wants to treat this. I'm not even sure myself. 

Neither of us says a thing. It's so hard to act on what we feel now that so much has changed. 

Our proximity becomes impossible to ignore. 

He stops wringing the shirt in his hands, slowly turning the angle of his face, keeping his focus glued to my chest - _his _mark. Inhaling deeply at the visual proof that it was all real, despite probably telling himself all morning that none of it could have actually happened_._ His lips part slightly, but he doesn't make a sound, still unsure of what to say or what to do about this. 

Ironic, especially since the only person in the world I've ever felt completely open and comfortable with is the one person I don't know how to be around now either. 

Gracefully, he positions himself to sit on the rock, smoothly sliding down it to stand in the water with me. But he's hesitant, still unable to take his eyes off the very reality of it. 

I swallow hard. 

He lifts his hand and runs his wet palm over my wound, rubbing his thumb lightly over the newly formed scab that stings from the pressure, but I would welcome any feeling coming from him. I inhale deeply, holding my breath for a moment, but not flinching from his touch. Black eyes find mine with blazing intensity, palm pressing more firmly to my chest. The significance of such a simple cut is almost overwhelming. 

"We really doing this?" His voice sounding as straight forward and as serious as I know he could ever be. 

I can only be bluntly honest, despite the pinch in my throat from what I'm about to reply. "_Yes_." 

Our expressions don't change - this isn't something we already didn't know. Deep down, someplace far in our souls, we always felt this bond... there just wasn't a name for it until last night. 

He closes his eyes; opening his body to the energy I freely give to him. A tiny smile plays across his lips as the warmth gently surges into his body, giving me his own ki in return. There's something to be said about feeling so right. I know that now. I know what it feels like to be complete. My energy - my soul - is becoming so tightly intertwined with Goten's... I must have been so empty without feeling this, but I can no longer fathom life without him. 

Maybe it was always like this. Maybe this has been our destiny the whole time. I've been hearing my father talk about destiny since before I could understand - my destiny to be great, to be powerful, to take something that belongs to me and claim it rightfully as my own. The destiny _he_ never had that _I_ was supposed to live up to. It just never occurred to me that maybe _my_ destiny lies with the power of being connected to Goten... but then again, I can't believe we didn't see it before. 

Me and Goten don't exist without each other - we're two parts of a whole, and I've been proven a million times over during the past twenty-four years that I wouldn't make it very far without him beside me. I know that now - he's my reason to fight for the destiny that belongs to the _both of us_.   
  
  


We don't say anything. There's no need to. 

The soft light peeks out from the canopy of trees as we dry naked next to the edge of the water on the grass, sleeping in the warmth of the morning sun as our minds drift in and out of consciousness. The sound of zippers and buckles of our shorts hanging to dry on the tree behind us is the only thing unnatural heard for miles, I'm sure. I guess it's a good thing we didn't leave them with our bags, or the trip home would be a very... well, _bare one_. It's bad enough that neither of us has a wearable shirt anymore, seeing how Goten's is now gone, and mine was torn to shreds back when clothes were last on the Concern List. We're down to the absolute minimum from what we started with. 

Which brings us to now... 

Actually, before right now, I'd almost forgotten all about what brought us out here in the first place, and I'm suddenly reminded that even though all that has happened between us in the past twenty-four hours, the initial problem we caused almost five months ago still has not gotten any closer to being resolved. And me... where does this leave the Trunks Briefs that would still have to face the real world that _couldn't possibly _understand him now? If anything, things might be more complicated than before. 

I turn my head to see his face consumed in thought again, staring to the sky with that look that says there's something's on his mind he's not telling me - his worry can be so easy to read. 

"I can't go back, Chibi." Blunt as ever. No point on letting him think I've gotten braver about facing what's waiting for me back home. 

"I know." 

My breath is weak. I feel that twinge in my throat again like I did yesterday. "Then... what now?" 

But I don't need to hear the answer this time. 

He reaches his hand over to delicately brush the bangs from my eyes, tracing the side of my cheek, still not exactly sure of how to actfrom the slightest pause in his actions - afraid to be too bold or too gentle. This is such new territory for us. It's like starting all over again. 

He gradually finds the courage to listen to the instincts that are still so new to experience and I close my eyes to the warmth of his increasing touch, telling him that he isn't wrong to assume. I turn my head into the palm of his hand, pressing my lips against his wrist and melting my breath hotly against his skin. 

With a swivel of his head to me, dark eyes reflect back every feeling and emotion that has consumed me from the moment we left our apartment. Every single doubt and fear about what has happened. What will. The old responsibilities we can't run from forever, the new ones that we have now yet to face. The fear that nothing could possibly go back to the way they used to be now that so much has changed. And the fear that we know we wouldn't want it to... even if it could. I'm not alone in this. 

I know his answer. And he's right. 

"But I suppose you're going to say you want to find our stuff first," I knowingly assume, unable to hold back a smile to the simplicity of it all. I can see it written on his face as I'm sure it is on my own. "Not exactly easy to walk into West City like _this_," I jokingly reference to our present lack of clothing. 

He pushes himself back up on his hands, sitting up beside me as the next big task of heading home has now been put on the table between us. But he doesn't give any indication that he was thinking the same route as I with my concern for losing our stuff , only intensifying that same look of worry across his face now that I've said something about it. It reminds me that his worry might be for reasons I can't sense like he can. I could give a damn about the cash and change of clothes we lost, and as much as I wish I had been more careful with my sword, I'm not about to get all bent out of shape over something that's not coming back. 

He lowers his voice. "I wasn't sure at first, but I think I can feel a lot of energy coming from somewhere down the river. The same that woke me up last night, but it's moving away from us pretty fast now. It's... it's hard to tell what it is..." he says, hiding his real concern. It's not often Goten displays even this kind of seriousness, and when he does, it's usually not far from the mark. He can sense danger a miles away - it's in his blood to do so. 

He continues as he sits back on his hands, trying hard to decipher the feeling coming from far down the path of rushing water in front of us. "It's way down there, but it... it's not good_..._ it's hard to explain. I think we should check it out. I have a feeling it might be where our stuff is." 

I expand my energy into the same direction, but my lack of fine-tuning my ki over the past few years has left me blind to what he's feeling, not to mention I haven't been paying attention to shit since we've been out here. "Isn't good _how?_ Like trouble? I don't care abou--" 

He suddenly cuts me off with the kind of realization you never want to hear. "We left _all _of the Dragonballs at the Lookout! _In one place!_ Besides what's already waiting for us back at home, we've now _added _to our list of things we've fucked up. We lost the Dragon Radar, Trunks. _The_ Dragon Radar." 

I've been hit with a safe. 

_But... but what could the chances be? Who could possibly even know about them?_

His voice lowers and he looks serious again. "I'm sure there must still be people left out there who know about the Dragonballs, we can't be the only ones," he answers the lingering question. "Someone could have very well been on to us from the beginning. It's not like we were really paying attention out here," he says, leaving the obvious reason unsaid. 

I try not to show the growing concern that I feel gnawing at my gut. "What are you saying?" I ask. He knows more than he's letting on and I'm beginning to wish I had paid more attention to all those Dragonball hunt stories my mom dished out to me when I was a kid. I keep forgetting that she wasn't the only one to ever use it. In fact, I'm pretty sure she didn't even make the fucking thing. But now I distinctly remember her telling me about people out there that knew about them. Of all times to pull a fucking blank... 

Goten swings his gaze away from down river to glance at me, his brows furrowing even more. "I mean, there's been a couple of times I've sensed... something, I dunno. It came and went and I thought we lost it for a while. I keep forgetting that nobody's gone looking for them on foot since my dad looked for them as a kid. Your mom is too fast to track when she's in her plane. It couldn't have been that hard to follow us." 

My jaw drops. "_Why didn't you say anything before we did this, then?_" I almost snap at him. 

He shrugs. "It didn't seem important at the time. I've had a lot on my mind out here," he says bluntly, looking at me with the kind of implication that doesn't need explained. He looks back to the direction in question. "But now that I think about it... that Six Star ball... it was way too easy to find compared to the others. It makes me wonder..." 

_Have I not been aware of my surroundings for that long out here? Has this been where his mind has wandered all those times I thought he was regretting what we did?_

I attempt to reassure him by hiding the panic in my voice and failing miserably. "But, what are the chances... that someone we came across would even know how to summon Shenlong if they got to all seven? Or even be able to _get_ to the Lookout?" I'm not convincing myself any more than I am him. "And who's to say they could even know how... to..." 

"But what if they can? _We_ looked for them as kids. Even my niece can figure out the Radar - it's not exactly that hard to work. If someone can read it and find Dende, they'll be lead directly to..." 

Directly to our mistake. _Our responsibility_. 

We're already gone. 

And I can't say that I'm not nervous. In fact, my heart feels as if it's going to pound a hole in my chest. I don't know what I'm really nervous about, though. It was probably just a bunch of kids wandering through the woods. Or the owner of whoever's land we wound up on. We just have to find them and get back the most dangerous piece of technology on the planet if used for the wrong reasons._ Great._

I'm preparing for the worst, when this will probably turn out to be nothing. But my mind automatically goes back to the last time we were presented with something potentially disastrous that we didn't take seriously. We got wake-up call in Otherworld and that is _not_ something I feel like doing again anytime soon. Granted, I somehow doubt we're going to face the second coming of Majin Buu when we find the source of all this, but I instinctively feel myself ready for the worst. Especially if whoever has the Radar knows what it's actually for. 

I wonder if I will remember how to react in a real fight, if that's what this comes to. I may still have a lifetime of training in this body of mine, but I'm in no kind of shape to be doing something drastic if I need to. I can't imagine Goten is much better off. I'm aware he gets to stay at home while I'm at work everyday, but I can't remember the last time he's sparred with his father, much less his brother. Dende knows he hasn't done any training with _me_ in the past few years, save the few times we've gotten back into it out here on this Dragonball search. Are either of us ready to put up a fight for this if we have to? I trust no one at my side more than Goten for something like this, _especially_ now. But it's been so long. 

We take off without question, rapidly picking up speed as the sense of urgency becomes more and more apparent, scanning the area below for the slightest sign of trouble. Hopefully, what we're looking for will take some effort to see from this high up. 

We don't have to travel far to already feel something's close. Something big. 

A part of me wants to pray that this is going to be a lot less painful than the worst-case scenario I'm replaying over in my head, but I can feel the anticipation getting the best of us. That addicting rush of adrenaline we still crave after all this time. 

He raises his power level way past what will probably be necessary, probably because he sensed mine already up past the moon. From the corner of my eye, I can see him smiling to himself. _The same Goten_. After all that has happened, we're still exactly the same. 

I feel like a kid again. Maybe this is what we need. Maybe some of our most basic fighting instincts need to be released between two guys who are feeling a bit more Saiyan than human right now. Maybe my body needs to remember what it's like to fight and give into some of my most basic, raw instincts that I haven't gotten the chance to use in a long, long time. 

_Bring it on._   
  
  


We cover the span of about twenty miles from where we started, but despite our building confidence, the sense of panic in the back of my mind becomes greater for every inch we close in on whatever we're going to find. The direction this is taking us isn't helping to ease the growing concern either - we're headed straight for the Lookout! 

"There," he points in the distance to nothing more than a blur on the horizon. But as we close in, my heart drops like a brick. We stop dead in mid-air. 

We're in trouble. The theory of this being a couple of kids who lifted our bags overnight has just been shot out of the window. 

Two hundred. Maybe three. 

"_Who the fuck are they?_" I croak out with absolutely no strength in my voice at all. I might as well be paralyzed. 

He sounds like I feel. "I... I have _no_ fucking idea, but we're in deep shit." 

To put it lightly. 

We land on the edge of a rock cliff not too far off from where they march. _How have we been so blind to this?_ They shout directions and orders we can't clearly make out from where we stand, muffled over the trucks and jeeps driving beside their formations. I know my mind has been... _occupied..._ with other matters, but _fuck_ - this is just about a small army we're looking at! An army that clearly knows where they're going and what they've taken from us. This is worse than the worst I was imagining in my head. 

He runs his hands through his hair, trying hard to make sense of what we're seeing. "We should... _I don't know!_ We have to get help for this!" 

"No!" I snap out, shaking my head without looking away from the sight below us. "My mother can't find out that I took the Dragon Radar. That's not happening, Chibi." 

"Well, we can't do this alone. I wouldn't even know how to approach this; unless you have some kick-ass negotiation skills you're not telling me about. I don't think we can just take these guys like we are. They're going to find the Lookout if we sit here for much longer!" 

I force myself to say something I can already know I'll feel the regret for later. "We have to try this alone first. Follow my lead." 

We quickly make our way down the side of the cliff, running almost straight down the jagged rocks to quickly catch up with the front of the group that, up close, doesn't seem as menacing as they did from a distance. The weapons they carry, on the other hand, only read one thing - they're intending to use as much force as needed. 

As we attract unwanted attention to ourselves on our way to the leader, my eye catches a small red patch sewn onto the sleeve of one of their jackets. "_R.R..?_ Goten, what does R.R. stand for?" 

But he doesn't respond, simply going right up to the man in the front and making his presence strong and deliberate, making it impossible for them to go any further without actually going through him. I follow along right at his side, although I don't know how effective we're being looking like this - two guys like ourselves, pissed off and wearing nothing but shorts in front of all these men. 

The leader halts his group with the raise of his hand. He knows who we are and his face is vaguely familiar now - we've crossed our paths months ago. And Goten was right - he's the one who knew about the location of the Six Star Ball. That same shady guy who seemed so 'interested' in what we we're doing and why we wanted it. _How has this fucking guy been with us this whole time?_

I speak before he even gets the chance. "I believe you have something of ours," I announce, projecting the kind of confidence I've seen only my dad possess. I surprise even myself. Had I been doing this alone, I might be singing a different tune, but I know whom I have on my side. "And we would like it back!" I hold out my hand to him, just expecting him to hand over the Radar without question and run off cowering home like a girl. 

I suppose it has been a long time since I've looked a battle in the eye. I forget how brave and fearless evil can be. 

He laughs wickedly, boldly walking right up to me and stopping no more than an inch from my face, despite how I tower over him in size. An army to back him up is probably enough confidence to walk up to anyone, regardless of size. 

I stand undaunted. I can feel Goten's power spiking wildly, ready to jump in, all though I'm pretty sure that by the sheer lack of speed from this guy, I could take him myself if I need to before the first shot could be fired. He's completely unarmed. 

"You have a lot of confidence for an army of two, don't you think? You boys have provided us with enough service. I think you had better be on your way." 

My counterpart is quick to respond, not fazed in the slightest. "I don't think so. We're not leaving here without it, so I'd advise you not to turn this into something it doesn't have to or we will use force." 

Whoa... this is the kind of threat I haven't heard from Goten since he nearly charged Majin Buu after watching his mother get killed right in front of him. That might have been a different circumstance, but I know how he can get when his emotions get the best of him in a fight. It's that Son-hidden-anger that this man should be fearing, all though I don't know if Goten would actually let it come out. I've always been pretty certain that Goten wouldn't have it in him to actually go through with killing his enemy - regardless of how extreme the situation is - but I know he wouldn't hesitate to kick the shit out of someone who legitimately deserved it. Kinda like this guy... 

The man doesn't react to his statement. Looking at us for a moment and sharply turning on his heel back to his men. Calling for his command with frightening ease. "Shoot them_._"   
  


Fighting instincts come back faster than I thought. Speed, reflexes... it's all there. 

We easily dodge their fire, instantly powering up without fully making a transformation in front of them, as we both know that is something you do _not_ do unless you have to. But fighting - defending yourself for real - is a lot different than I remember. They have weapons. Not swords or staffs, but real weapons that don't rely on how strong you are to use them. Our speed to sense their fire still borderlines on precognitive and saves us from being shot into pieces, but the Radar is still no place to be found. 

"That guy... where did he go?!" I shout over the four in front of me taking up every bit of my concentration to fend them off without killing them outright. But if anyone has the Radar, it has to be the leader and he's nowhere in my sight. "Don't let him get away." 

But I catch a glimpse to see Goten's got his own hands full. I may have always been more clever one in a fight - being able to weasel my way out of being out-matched with inventive little tricks of the trade - but Goten has a remarkable amount of agility and fighting instinct that allows him to handle even the worst situations ten times better than I ever can. I know I don't have to worry that he's in over his head - he adapts to everything so quickly, as he's making obvious to the group on him that he's barely having to put up a fight against, not even using an ounce of ki yet. 

It's been a long time since we've seen some real action like this, but this encounter is proving to be quite a rush. 

They're no match for our speed. Their ammo is quickly spent and within the span of a few minutes, most of the men have already gone fleeing into the woods, the others are either unconscious on the ground or begging for their life - not any kind of threat at this point, much less to _us_. 

I begin to search the abandoned trucks for any signs of our stuff, anxious to find what we're looking for and get out of here. 

He calls out to me, rooting through the supplies crates and jackets of the incapacitated. "I can't find it, Trunks. It's not on any of these guys. It might be with someone who ran, or..." The desperation in his voice is clear that he's not only worried that we still haven't found what we did all of this for, but that it might still be in the hands of someone who ran off. 

"Keep looking! It's got to be here somewhere." I dig through a stray crate left off to the side of one of the flatbeds, open and already searched through from the looks of it. A leather strap hangs over the side... _My sword!_ No, wait... it's just the sheath, but where wo-..._ -Nnnn!_

My breath sharply gasps for another as hot, twisting pain pinches in my gut. Nothing but a strangled choke cries from my throat. 

I look down to the sting, afraid to see. 

Sharp metal. Cold, pointed steel piercing through my skin. _My sword. _I grab onto it with shaking hands, too in shock to know what to do. 

_I-I... I c-can't move._

With one swift yank, it slides back into my abdomen as I feel it's wet blade cut deeper into my back on the way out. 

I drop to my knees. Helpless. Afraid. Blood starts spilling almost immediately, pouring over my hands, running down my legs. I've never seen so much blood before and... and I don't know what to do! _Oh god... please, I-I.... I can't... I can't... I can't scream. I'm so scared. This... this can't be happening._

A boot to my back pushes my face down into the dirt. I can't fight back. I spit up the building liquid in my throat, splattering bright red over the dirt in front of my face. 

"You think you're so smart, you arrogant little fuck! _I know what you are,_" he seethes, grabbing the back of my hair and holding my head up to speak close into my ear. "You're not so fucking strong now,_ are you?_ Another one of you will not hold back our reformation. Not this time. I've learned from our mistakes - the Red Ribbon Army will _not _be destroyed by insignificant interference like the two of you." 

Hard to breathe. Nothing but a wet choke escapes me. 

_Goten!_

Walking away from me, my bloodied blade in his hand, his cold dead words wrack my body. "I should have killed the two of you before when I had the chance." 

_"G-Go-ten!" _Barely more that a whisper in my forced breathing, coughing on my blood.   
  
  


And he hears me.   
  
  


My hands weakly wrapped around my middle - soaked and warm from the blood pumping furiously from my body - I manage to tilt my face to see him. 

_Goten!_

Everything is quiet. He stops, unable to move from the crushing devastation in his eyes. I can feel nothing but his energy, seeping through every pore of his body, rapidly magnifying his ki to something I've never felt from _anyone. _His fist clench. Trembling. Breathing rapidly becomes ragged and heavy, overpowering him. I sense his control starting to slip as the disbelief starts welling up in his eyes. Shaking his head. Refusing to accept what he's seeing. 

Almost instantly, his power snaps to the limits of his body, shattering a deafening scream over the plains. The ground cracks and crumbles under his feet as the stress exerted upon his body nearly tears him apart. Blue lightening crackles around his growing frame, powering up to levels I've never experienced on my own, ascending to the form I've only seen one other time before now now. 

He's.. _he's beautiful._

I blink out the tears in my eyes, blurring my vision from seeing him unleash such incredible amounts of energy that recklessly destroys the slightest thing in it's path. Thirsting for destruction. Anger. Revenge. Blind rage that sears through the opposition with no chance of resistance and everything I never thought Goten could ever possess flows freely from his body. 

I see him grab my sword from the hand that used it on me, my blood still dripping from the blade. Nothing to contemplate. There's no mercy. I hear desperate, terrifying screams as he brutally slaughters the body before him, ripping into flesh and bone without any hesitation as he wields my weapon with deadly precision, leaving nothing resembling a person behind. A broken Radar crushed into a million pieces at his feet. 

The field is leveled, save the burned and dismembered bodies scattered in every direction. So much death. Not a single one left alive. 

His body buckles under such force. Exhausted, gasping for air. Ready to collapse. Rapidly dropping out of his transformation and back into the Goten who has never hurt a fly. The clank of the sword hitting the ground. Hands drip of the blood of his kill, afraid of what he's done. 

But he remembers. 

With every last shred of energy, he runs to me, collapsing to the ground and cradling me in his arms. Sobbing uncontrollably. His bottom lip trembles to where I can barely hear him beg for me to be strong. That I have to be all right, but his words seem so far away. 

I feel so cold. I can't stop shaking. 

He holds his hand over my abdomen, pressing hard to slow the blood, but too late. 

My body feels tired. Weak, shallow breath. I stop shaking. Hard to swallow. 

He slides his hands under my knees and shoulders, carrying me in his arms as I soon feel like we're flying straight up. Draining his energy to carry me, his face is stained with tears, still forcing the speed to go faster.   
  
  


Soft light. Birds. 

Everything's gone quiet. I can only hear his heartbeat. 

_Goten._

Tears stream down his face. So much pain. He's crying. 

I want to touch him and hold him. Keep him. Tell him that I love him. That I always have. 

_Goten!_

He doesn't hear me calling his name. _Why can't he hear me?_

But words won't come anymore. My hands forget the way to his face. 

He's scared. I don't want to be, but I am, too. 

But I'm not cold anymore. The pain is gone. No hurt. 

I think about my sister, holding her when she was the tiniest baby. Her laughing in my ear as I tickle her upside down. The way she would jump in my arms when I would surprise her with a visit home. 

My mother's smile. Yelling at me for staying up all night in the Gravity Simulator on a school night. Her tears of happiness when I sat behind my office desk for the first time, carrying on the Briefs family legacy. 

Hearing my dad say he was proud of me that day. The smile he tried to hide when I showed him what I had learned with my sword. 

The night after coming home from Otherworld when we were a normal family, even if it was just for one night. 

And I remember _us_. 

The first night alone together in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, holding each other because we were too scared to fall asleep. Learning to fuse again after so long. The day he moved into the apartment, falling asleep in my bed with me because he didn't have one of his own just yet. 

Our kiss. Our mark. 

All the memories we haven't had yet that I want to have with him. 

I want to look into his eyes one last time, but he doesn't look down. Only his tears fall onto my cheek. So scared and afraid.   
  
  


It comes so quickly. My eyes never once left him. What it will be like without him in my soul?   
  
  


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I land not soon enough, skinning my knees beyond what would be the normal threshold of pain, falling in mid-motion and sliding to a stop as I hold him in my arms. But I can feel nothing now. 

I lay him down. So much blood. 

_Oh god, please stay with me, Trunks!_

Dende is fast at my side, but I can manage nothing but a scream for him to heal him, crying harshly through my desperate pleas to be faster. But nothing. 

_Why isn't he healing him? Help him._ _Please help us. I'm so scared... Please don't tell me to deal with our responsibilities now. I don't know what to do!_

But there's nothing. 

And he says it. 

"He is... dead, Goten." 

Just like that. 

I can't react. I can't scream at him and tell him that he's wrong. That he's lying, but I can't think coherently enough to form the words. He's alive. _He has to be._

I grab the side of his head, staining his hair with the red from my hands, pressing my face to his and holding his body against mine. So heavy. 

_Trunks, please... don't do this.... don't fucking do this! Y-you can't._

There aren't tears to cry. I can't hear the idle apologies or whatever it is being said to me. I'm numb to it. 

Glowing orange orbs being brought to me catch my eye -_ the Dragonballs!_

I'm sure I choke out something completely rude and inappropriate to our Guardian once I see them, but I've long stopped caring about what consequences my actions bring. I can't calm my body from the shaking or my mind from the shock. I'm not who I used to be. 

The dragon is quickly summoned. The wish made, coming out much more as a hysterical demand than with the respect you should treat something like this. I have no control of what I'm doing anymore. 

But it's refused. 

'_Brought back before?'_

_'Cell Games?'_

_'Boy from the future?'_

My heart crushes in my chest, feeling what's left of my reality draining away from me. They're lies. _This is all a lie!_

I gather him in my arms, possessively holding him to my chest. I hear the pleading to stay - to not to go anywhere like this - to leave him here. My body feels empty, filling with a growing strain pulling hard in my chest. We have to leave. 

I carry him as I fly away to a direction someplace buried in my subconscious. I don't know where I am even going. Eyes still looking at me with so much pain. He needs to rest. 

_I'll take care of you, Trunks._

Our balcony. 

I carry him into the apartment through an open glass door, lying him down on the bed, curling up behind him. Squeezing my eyes tight to survive the strain suffocating me the more I don't hear him respond. 

His body is so cold now. 

The pressure in my chest continues to build, ripping at my insides with pain I can't tolerate anymore. Gnawing at my soul, twisting the life from me as I wrap my arms around him tighter, crushing him with the desperation to find the release for this hurt. 

_Trunks, p-please... it hurts so bad. Please wake up! Please... I-I need you so m-much now. It's killing me._

There's a scream from somewhere, but I can't open my eyes. Someone terrified. She's screaming his name. 

With every passing second, I become more and more lost. I sob into his back, crying for him to hear me, but I feel so alone. 

Two strong hands are soon placed on my shoulders, pulling me away from him. Pulling us apart. I try to hold on, but my strength is easily swallowed up by the tearing pain within me. I scream, clawing at flesh to keep him. 

_Don't take him away. Please... no!_

Arms hold me back. Holding me down. My body bucks to get free. 

_Truuuunks!_

A hard crack at my neck. Blackness claims me before I feel it. 

The break is quick.   
  
  


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:: **_to be continued_** ::** please review** ::   
  
  


***Author's Notes~**   
_I've started a mailing list for the updates and progress of this fic and the link to it is located on my bio page._


	14. PART EIGHT

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion 

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**~ **PART EIGHT **~**

  
  
  
  


I shouldn't be here. 

I want to forget so much, but I can't.   
  
  


I would like to think I've become stronger over the past four and a half months. Rising to the responsibility I've been pretty much forced to face. Rehearsing the perfect scenario in my head that would have made everything the way I needed it to be. Starting to truly believe that I could make it - that all of this happened for a reason and that it was going to be okay in the end. 

To be happy. 

To make this all work.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It wasn't exactly the easiest choice to come back. 

Initially, I kept telling myself that I would be better off on my own after what had happened, without anyone around to constantly remind me what a screw up I was, or think that I was still just a naive little kid under it all who got in over her head. I didn't want to hear about how it was my perfectly ridiculous fantasies that crushed my reality, or that I should have seen it all coming a mile away. And about how much I disappointed my mother, not to mention my dad. 

I just really wanted to be able to handle this without the help of people who would have thrown it in my face, and instead just drown in all this regret by myself; to face the music and deal with the truth alone, no matter how different I wanted the truth to be. 

But '_alone_' became a lot bigger of a word once I actually was. 

But where else could I go? There was no way I could ever show my face at Capsule Corporation again. After what happened that night with Bulma, I can't imagine I'd even be welcome. 

I certainly couldn't go back to the island. It wasn't my home any longer. _I_ was the one who didn't want to be treated like a little girl anymore and made that big stand with my parents about leaving Kame House. How can I forget all that talk about being responsible and mature enough to finally grow up and make it on my own in the big city? 

Ironically enough, I was the one who said it would be easy, even though it turned out to be a lot easier to fuck up. And even if I could manage to swallow every ounce of pride and crawl back to my parents, I don't think I'd ever be able to look my dad in the eye again and not feel that I've disappointed him. I walked right into what he feared would happen and I was too stupid to see it. 

After looking at my options and the situation I was in, it didn't take long before I finally had to admit to myself that I needed someone's help, and as much as I did not want to admit it, the two people who started this whole chain of events were the only ones left I could turn to. I didn't want to. _Believe me_ - Just being back in the apartment would surely bring back too many painful memories and awkward feelings, but I no longer had a choice. I just expected it to be a personal hell I'd have to live with. 

But that afternoon I walked back into this apartment defeated and ashamed only a week after both the best and worst night of my life, I honestly didn't expect them to be gone. And gone for who knows how long. Leaving me with this big, empty apartment to sit in and dwell on what happened until whenever they decided to come back, if they even would. Hearing message after message left on the answering machine from Bulma and everyone else they didn't tell, only to hear the vague recorded apology that Trunks left saying that they had to take care of something, no matter how long it took. After piles of mail built up and people stopped calling, I really started to think that they weren't coming back at all. It was getting harder and harder to not believe it wasn't because of me and what happened that night. 

But I was someplace familiar. Someplace safe. 

So I stayed. 

Without having much of a choice, I learned to be on my own pretty quick. I figured out how to write checks from their joint bank account, to take care of the apartment, take care of myself. To handle responsibility on my own in magnitudes I could never have fathomed before. But I did all of it. In fact, I almost felt like it was making things a little bit more fair by having them pick up the tab while they were away. I at least deserved _that_ much. 

But looking back on it, it probably was better that way. I needed time. Time to feel sorry for myself. Time to hate them for what they did for a little while, and even more time to get through it and come to terms with my new reality. 

Somehow, I think that if they had been home to open that door the day I came back, I would probably still be depending on something that could never be to make everything better. Still stuck with the hope that he would comeback. That he would be real for me because I wanted him to be. Because I needed him to be. I just needed time to realize that he won't be coming back, even though sometimes, I still find myself hoping that he will. 

Even now. 

Even after I have seen with my own two eyes that it's now truly impossible to ever see him again. 

The big lesson learned from all of this? Things never turn out the way you want them to.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It wasn't supposed to happen this way. They were supposed to come home and tell me that everything was going to be okay. Hold me and tell me they were sorry for leaving, sorry for what they did to me.That they would always be here for me so I didn't have to be alone. Telling me that we were all in it together. 

But it didn't happen that way at all. 

That very moment I heard the balcony door swing open, it was already over. 

To be perfectly honest, it all seemed like it was all happening to someone else. Things like this don't happen to real people. You just don't just walk out of the kitchen in your slippers and see the kind of horror you're too scared to even scream at... that is until you realize that it's your eyes you're watching it through and not someone else's. 

I can still hear Goten begging for Trunks to wake up, drowning in desperation and fear that dwarfed my own. Squeezing the limp form he curled tightly around, shaking his head for it to just be the twisted nightmare it felt like. 

A bloodied, lifeless body in his arms soaked in a puddle of red on the sheets. No welcome home hug. No explanation of where they had been. No telling me that everything was going to work out. 

He was dead. 

I honestly don't remember many details about what happened after that, aside from the blurred images that still haunt me in my sleep and make it difficult to move on. 

I can only remember screaming. Screaming until my throat was raw. Seeing Goku materialize right in front of me out of thin air and making matters even more surreal than I was ready to handle at that moment. Being crouched in a corner, crying my eyes out until I didn't know what was real anymore as I watched Goten still sobbing against Trunks' body, desperately fighting to hold on to him as Goku tried to pull him off. 

I think it was his bloodcurdling scream that still echoes in my head the most. Not a scream of fear or anger, or from the sheer shock that his best friend was dead in his arms. It was unmistakable - it was from pain, only to be cut off sharply by a swift chop to the back of his neck, immediately knocking him unconscious. 

Goten collapsed face down on the floor next to the bed, and before I was even able to react, Goku told me to stay with Goten until he got back, and then left with Trunks' body as quickly as he came. Leaving me alone with his unconscious son and full of a grief I don't think I'll ever get over. 

That final scream still lingers in this apartment. Even now. 

I guess the next big question now is where do you go when you're stranded someplace that you don't belong?   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Goten is dying. 

I know nobody has said it, but I know it's true. 

His family's been here every waking second since they found out what happened, taking care of him, waiting for him to regain consciousness, trying to nurse him back to health once he finally opened his eyes. Cleaning him up from the battered and gory condition he wound up here in. Trying so hard to snap him out of it, and continually begging for answers or any sign that he would be all right, only to watch him sink further and further away. Lying in the very same bed I found him in, dying in front of everyone who loves him without a reason why. 

Goten has deteriorated into something that barely resembles the man he once was. He hasn't said a word, not a single tear or any sign that he can hear or see the family that begs for him to respond. He won't move. He won't eat, rapidly losing dangerous amounts of weight and looking like a shell of the old Goten I had grown so fond of. He just lies there, eyes glazed over, fixed on the ceiling or out the window, unresponsive to his mother's pleading and crying like he can't even hear her. Ignoring everything around him. Slowly fading away from us. 

I would like to think he's going to be all right, but it's become clear now that everyone has stopped running around trying to help, that they have accepted Goten's slipping away as inevitable. 

Oddly enough, Goku isn't here most of the time anymore. I've overheard him talking with Gohan a few days ago about 'Dragonballs' and place called 'New Namek' before taking off to see someone called 'Dende', but I don't dare ask my questions about what's going on during such a private and painful time for the Son's. I've only overheard him explain to his older son that he felt Goten exert an incredible amount of energy just moments before he felt Trunks' cut out completely, but that's about all I know, and I don't even understand that. I want to ask so much, but I already feel like I'm wearing my welcome thin by just being here during such a trying family time for them. The last thing they need in addition to everything that's happened is a reminder that I'm still up here in the loft with a front row seat to their family crumbling apart. 

So I keep my distance - away from worrying them with more problems, disappearing up here in the loft and quietly stepping around the house to make my presence go unnoticed as much as I can. Crying in my pillow, keeping my insignificant problems that had seemed so important up until a few days ago to myself . Crying in Goten's pillow. In his old bed. 

I don't want to be here anymore. 

I can't.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


I've started to pack, but I don't even know where I'm going to go after... other than I just can't stay here. 

I quietly box up some of the last things left on my dresser, leaving nothing but the linens on the bed and a few random things still hanging in the coat closet downstairs. I've done everything I can to keep myself busy today, but I'm running out of things to do and I'm not even remotely tired. I'm already dreading trying to fall asleep tonight, as with every night, it's easier to just exhaust myself until I can't remember passing out instead of closing my eyes to the visions I can't keep from flooding through my head. Forcing myself to stay awake, because being awake isn't nearly as bad as the dreams. 

My footsteps squeak and creak through the ceiling beams with volume that seems deafening. This apartment has become as quiet as a tomb. There haven't been many people stopping by anymore, and I think the silence is proving to be worse than the chaos. Now, everyone's waiting for the same thing. It's only a matter of time. 

I gently sit on the edge of my bed and curl up into a ball against my blanket, feeling like the thinnest piece of glass starting to crack and ready to shatter from the slightest touch. Wishing my presence didn't seem so incredibly awkward and intrusive like it does, as the thick silence is only ever broken by whispers I feel I'm not supposed to hear. Right now, it's just me and Goku in the apartment with him. Gohan took Chi Chi home this morning and I already know she's not coming back. Having to hear a mother say good bye to her dying son isn't a memory you want to have, but I know I'm not ever going to forget it, as much as I want to. They know this is the end. 

The sudden slide of the metal front door startles me from drowning in my thoughts. I quickly wipe my eyes with the cuff of my shirt and carefully peek over the railing behind the headboard of the bed to see who has come in, almost dreading who or what could be at this point. I've long given up on good news ever coming here. 

Vegeta. 

I duck down and instinctively hold my breath, as if scared he'll hear me breathing up here. Of all the people who lived at Capsule Corporation, I probably saw him the least of all, but it wasn't by chance. He scares me, no matter what kind of stories I've heard from my dad telling me how tame he's gotten over the years. Anyone who can detach that far from any kind of emotion chills my spine. I start to worry why he's here. 

He walks into the apartment with not so much as a glance around, even though I know for a fact he's never been here before. He walks straight to the sleeping man slumped in the arm chair next to the bed Goten still lays in. If I'm not somehow mistaken, there's almost a gentleness to his steps -_respect_ even. His low gruff voice is too quiet to make out from up here, but before I can listen closer, the two men walk outside onto the balcony to talk in private. Away from listening ears. 

I feel like a stranger. 

My mind races to the possibilities of what Vegeta could possibly be here for. He hasn't been here at all since Goten's return, despite Capsule Corporation only being right on the other side of town. I can understand that he did just lose his own son only days ago, but even Bulma has been here twice to see Goten, still grieving over Trunks' death and trying to come to terms with this as much as anyone. Maybe I just didn't expect her husband to be included with the rest of us. He's never been the best at acting human. 

Several minutes pass. I can see their silhouettes in the glass. From what I can hear, Vegeta does most of the talking, but it's quick. Before their conversation is even finished, he's already making his way back to the door to leave, and their volume picks up to a level I don't have to pretend I can't hear anymore, even if they aren't aware that I'm listening at this point. 

"Let him go, Kakarott. You want to help your son? Let him go." 

"I will not sit here and just watch him die in front of my eyes! _Please_... Tell me how to help him! I... I just don't understand why this is happening... _You have to tell me how to help him!_" 

Such a desperate plea sounds so strange coming from Goku, and it catches me off guard. He's normally so strong and confident and sure everything will work out. Now his voice sounds horse and strained, almost panicked. 

There's no answer. 

"_Please, Vegeta_..." 

Witnessing the strongest man on the planet - possibly in the entire universe - begging for help to save his son is painful to hear. I can feel my throat closing up again, and I squeeze my blanket tightly as to not cry out loud, but it's no help for the tears spilling freely down my face and soaking into the pillow. 

There's a silence. The footsteps headed to the door have stopped. 

"There's a very strong bond that has been broken, Kakarott. Had your son been a full Saiyan instead of the half breed he is, he would have died along with Trunks in battle like he should have, but his human side is fighting it. _You're_ fighting it. It was their decision to bond and it is not your right to use those fucking Dragonballs to undo it. No more than it is my right to..." There's a hitch in his voice, nearly a crack. It's obvious what he wants to say. But he doesn't continue. 

"I don't know what you're talking about. What _bond?_ My son is dying and..." 

"Have you really been this blind to what has been developing between our boys all this time? Those marks on him," he bites out in disgust, "they aren't from battle! They symbolize a bond they've accepted." His voice turns thoughtful, as if he's speaking more to himself than Goku. "It's a Saiyan ritual I taught Trunks when he was younger - to bind your life to another's. I had hopes... but even then, I knew - much to my disappointment - that he would someday pick your half-breed son of all people to bond with, but it wasn't my choice to make for him." He pauses before continuing quietly. "Actually, I thought they had done this a long time ago." 

Before Goku responds, Vegeta is quick to regain the signature hostility in his voice that is so much more familiar to hear from him, all though much less convincing then earlier. "My son died in battle, Kakarott. Let yours go. He does not want to live like this." 

The words linger in the air. They're hard to understand coming from a man who doesn't display emotion. Even of the few times I've been to Capsule Corporation as a kid, I only remember him as being a very scary, cold man with no regard for anyone else's feelings. But his voice is understanding now, speaking with the same frustration of a father who was helpless to save his own flesh and blood. After years of pointless fighting and competition, there's finally an understanding. 

I hear him starting to leave again without a word, but hesitates once the click of the metal latch on the door is opened, speaking away, maybe even to the floor. 

"He's in pain, Kakarott. The boy has survived his soul being ripped from his body. I know what he suffers. Respect their bond - Let him go." 

And the door slides closed, echoing through the apartment with an eerie finality that catches my breath. I squeeze me eyes closed, wishing myself far away from here as the words echo and twist painfully in my heart. 

Once again, I start feeling selfish and sob quietly into the pillow.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


"You awake?" 

I nod my head from under my blanket, too embarrassed to show my swollen red face and puffy eyes from crying pretty much solid since Vegeta left earlier. It's 4:30am and I still can't find rest, as much as I want to fall asleep. 

"I thought you could use some company," he says with the kind of implication that maybe I'm not the only one who needs someone to talk to. He finds a clean path to walk though, carefully stepping around the boxes and clothes scattered over the floor before softly sitting down on the corner of my bed. Even now, it still amazes me how someone so strong can be so gentle. It's easy to see where Goten gets it from. 

"Gohan took Chi Chi home." He looks over at me, but I keep my focus down. "But I guess you know that, huh?" 

Again, I nod, this time lifting my head from hiding to find a simple sympathetic smile given to me. I've known Goku for as long as I can remember, as opposed to everyone who lived with his absence for so many years before. He's my father's best friend, so even if I wasn't around all of the time, I certainly heard all about all of the things he's done in the past. I don't think there's anyone on Earth who hasn't. But somehow, I feel that none of that matters at times like this. No amount of strength could counter the pain. 

He picks up a dried rose petal lying on the top of the dresser next to the bed, idly smoothing it between his fingers. "I think it got to be a little too much for her. Chi's a... well, a hell of a strong woman, but she's... it's alot to take in now. She's older than the last time she went through this with me or Gohan, but even then she's never had to sit through and watch like this. Watching it happen without being able to do anything," he says, speaking to himself barely louder than a whisper. "She's never lost Goten. I just didn't think she should be here anymore." 

He doesn't have to explain to me, although I have to admit I've wondered why Goku decided to stay with Goten here instead of taking him back home, especially now that he knows this is truly it. I just keep forgetting that Chi Chi has been around to watch both her son and her husband die on more than one occasion, and regardless of being able to be wished back or not, I can't imagine this gets any easier. 

But even as I've sat up here in the loft watching as Goku's remained diligently at Goten's side, talking to him as though he's going to be all right despite all hope for that slipping away, I can't help but wonder what goes through the mind of the man who has saved a world of strangers hundreds of times over, but now must sit and watch his own son waste away before his eyes and be helpless to stop it. 

His expression manages a brave look for me, perhaps knowing that I've been hanging on by a thread having to watch this all happen. Throughout this ordeal, he has never once asked me to leave, or even asked why I've been here in the first place, although I think it's become pretty apparent that I don't have any place else to go. Through some mutual understanding, he hasn't yet told my parents anything about where I've been, even though I know he's talked with them about me and that he knows they're worried about where I am. I'm not brave enough to tell him why I wound up here in the first place, or why I'm too scared to leave. 

I feel as if the act I have been putting on to convince myself everything will be okay and like it was is starting to slip. I sniff back the tears and stuffy nose, feeling like a little girl for acting like this, especially in front of someone who's barely seen me since I've grown out of pigtails. 

And then I lose it. 

"Why... I-I d-don't... I don't understand why he's dying? Why can't anyone help him?! How can everyone just let him die?" 

He moves over closer to me, rubbing my back even though there's no way to be gentle about something like this. I almost hate myself for lashing out, but it's becoming too much. 

"Goten can't live like this, Marron. He was connected with Trunks for so long, that when Trunks died, Goten's soul went with him. There's not much left of him here anymore, just a shell." He swallows hard. "He's... he's in too much pain... _he_..." He chokes back what he wanted to say, but he doesn't need to. He explains exactly what I don't want to hear, sounding like he understands this all as much as I do. But he forces a smile, telling me that it hurts just as much to say it out loud, as it does to hear it. 

I feel sick. 

"Goten did everything he could. He avenged his death, but by all rights, he should have died there with Trunks." He looks past me over the edge of the loft down to the bed where Goten still lies motionless. "You know, it's times like this I wish I knew more about these Saiyan things." He forces a weak laugh. "Funny - I'm one of only two left, and I've never gone through what my own son is going through right now. I wish I could take away his pain. I... I wish I could understand." 

There isn't much to be said on either of our parts. We sit in silence. The comfort of him just being here makes it easier to stop feeling so sad. He knows where his son will be going - he's been there before. 

"Do you want to talk to him? You can if you'd like..." 

"Huh?" My eyes must be expressing the same amount of confusion I feel. Perhaps it's more that I don't want to be presented with the option, since I know what will wind up happening if I go down there. 

"He can hear you, Marron. He's still in there... someplace." He gives me the nod to go ahead, ignoring the frightened and hesitant look on my face. "_I think you should tell him_." 

I hold my breath for a second, but warm, comforting eyes find mine telling me to trust him. There's so much sadness within his eyes with so little hope, but I see it. I feel it, too, as it is the same in mine. 

I finally exhale with a shaking breath, and I find myself walking down the stairs to a mistake waiting to happen. I shouldn't do this. 

With the most hesitant approach, I get within a few feet of his bed, and I can't move any further. I haven't gotten close enough to see the detail of what's happened to him yet and now I know why that was for the best. I didn't want to see him like this. I wanted him to stay as close to the Goten I remember - the strong, handsome, wonderful man that I met that one random day at the office - but seeing now how far he's fallen feels like a punch in my chest. 

He's so pale, flushed of all color on his skin. His once soft, warm lips are now cracked and dry, and his eyes - even though they're closed - are dark and sunken into his thinned face, void of any strength or life. His hands have become thin and frail. I can hear his shallow breathing from where I stand, watching his chest barely move with each breath, ready to give up. He's lost so much weight from not eating, and the tee shirt he wears that once used to fit him tightly, now hangs on him as if it is three sizes two big. He's wasting away to nothing. 

I stand there for awhile. Too afraid to move closer. Afraid to see what I really don't want to. I cover my gasp with my hand, feeling for the first time that somehow this is all my fault. 

His eyes slowly crack open, but not to me. I've woken him. 

Instinctively, I walk closer to his bed and kneel beside it, not a second after telling myself I couldn't possibly go any closer. With the most uncertain touch, I delicately smooth my hand over his forehead and down the side of his cheek, shuddering at the unfamiliar feel of how cold his skin is. 

I sit on the very edge of the bed, looking down at him with desperate need for him to respond, but he remains lost, looking off someplace else. Tiny spots begin to appear on his shirt from the tears that I've lost all control of shedding. 

The emotions snowball quickly, and I automatically reach down to wrap my arms around his fragile frame, sobbing uncontrollably beside his ear, trying unsuccessfully to be soft, "G-Goten... y-you can't d-die! P-_Please_ don't leave me alone. Don't... _I c-can't_..." 

I cry my eyes out. Letting everything go I didn't want to. I need - now more then ever - to hear him say that it's going to be all right, and hold me in his arms and tell me that this is all just a horrible dream that I haven't woken up from yet. That this isn't the end. 

"Y-You can't die now,_ do you hear me?_" Fear starts intertwining with an anger borne from my frustration. "You can't! I n-need you! Please Goten, I can't do this on my own..." I reach down to hold his hand, grasping it tightly between mine, feeling nothing in return. 

But as my desperation rapidly gets the best of me, I've already forgotten what I vowed to keep to myself. To not burden others with my problems...especially Goten. 

Without realizing it, I place his hand flat on my belly, scared to talk, scared to hear the words even come out of my own mouth as I whisper gently, aching for him to feel what I feel, "_There's a baby inside of me, Goten. Can you feel it?_" I whisper, saying the words out loud for the very first time. My heart breaking as I try to smile, this occasion should be filled with joy and wonder, but there is only grief. "You and Trunks..." I swallow the pain. "..._ Gotenks_ - this is his baby. And I need you. Please don't leave me alone. _Not now_..." The words barely make it out. 

And again, my breath stops. 

So gently, with such a forced amount of strength to do something so simple, he turns his head to face me, his eyes already glistening with the tears that want to fall. His lips part as his breathing quickens to an irregular pace, and I fear this might be too much for him to hear. My heart stops beating, and I'm more afraid at this moment then I've ever been in my life. This is the first response he's given. _Please don't let it be the last..._

But through the avalanche of emotions crushing my every sense, I feel the slightest grip of his hand over my shirt, holding the small swell of my belly, feeling the baby's tiny ki radiate through his hand. 

With nothing left to say, I curl up around him, positioning myself to rest his head on my abdomen. Not knowing what will happen after now, all though I think it's more that I don't care. I just need him. 

"The baby needs you, Goten. I... I can't do this without you." 

And I cry myself to sleep, trying not to think that this might possibly be the only time we'll ever be a family together. Even as misshapen and as broken as it might be.   
  
  


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:: **_to be continued_** :: **please review** :: 

*Author's Notes ~   
_I've started a mailing list for the updates and progress of this fic and the link to it is located on my bio page._

  



	15. PART NINE

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion 

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**~ **PART NINE** ~**

The days are getting shorter. It's only five o'clock and it's already starting to get dark. 

Rain - though by the temperature outside it should probably be snow - pounding furiously against the cubed glass wall facing Downtown West City for hours, covering these cold floors with long cascading shadows 

Lately, I've been spending most of my time thinking about how my situation will drastically change in just a few weeks... maybe even _days_ now. Or what will become of all this even if everything I want to happen magically comes true. 

Goku keeps telling me not to worry - that "destiny just has a way of working itself out, even when you think all hope is gone". But I worry so much about Goten. About my baby. About keeping this up when there will be two to take care of instead of just one. 

I'm afraid I'm going to be destiny's exception. 

Sometimes I wonder why I haven't been getting much sleep lately. If it isn't the baby kicking me relentlessly throughout the night and making me worry about how I'm going to handle this unusual delivery or even how to raise a child on my own, it's my heart, feeling more and more crushed under the pressure I've been voluntarily putting myself through for the past four months. 

But I have to keep reminding myself that I was the one who decided to stay here with Goten - to stay here and do this all by myself like the mature, grown-up I still think I am sometimes. Nobody guilted me into this - living here to stare down death in the eyes of someone who didn't want to live when I found him here almost four months to the day. Nobody told me to stay here with Goten and 'force' him to go on. Maybe it was because there wasn't anyone else believed that he could come back, but sometimes I question if he's doing this because he _wants_ to live, or because I'm not letting him die. 

His family had already said their good byes. It was over before Ieven interfered. I mean, how could they not? How long can _anyone_ just sit and watch someone they love suffer and die before you finally begin understand, even if it hurts worse to accept the truth and let them go? They were here for every minute of it and would have never given up if they thought he could recover. But they were here to see him with their own eyes as he completely wasted away so rapidly in front of them, giving up on everything about his life without question or doubt, silently telling us that he didn't want to live with his new reality. Or more that he couldn't live without_ him._

_'Goten's energy and very life was bound to Trunks'.'_

_'Their lives were connected to each other's.'_

_'He was stripped of the soul they shared.'_

_'There's nothing left of him now. Just pain.'_

I'm tired of hearing it! Even now, they're still the only answers I ever get to all this. 

But sometimes at night, just before he falls asleep, when I sit at the side of his bed and place his head on my growing belly, I can almost feel the faintest sign of emotion start to pour through me. The slightest indication that_ somewhere _- deep inside him - he can still feel something. But at the same time, it silently tells me how broken and empty he really is. How desperate he is to for the hurt to just go away, even though he never says a word. It makes me wonder if feeling a part of Trunks inside of me isn't making matters worse for him. 

Goten shared something with Trunks more powerful than I think anyone actually realized, enough to make me truly believe that Goten would have died on that bed with him had nobody interfered. Looking back at it now, it's become just about impossible not to see it. They had known each other their entire lives. Fought and died together. Bonded their souls to one another. Two halves of a whole... 

... my mind wanders off to _someone else_ again. 

And as usual, I feel stupid for wanting to cry. 

I would like to think that if I could just understand what he is going through, or what it's like to be so lost without the only person you ever needed, then maybe I would know how to take him away from this pain. Help him remember how to be happy again. Do something for him, other then just being here to push him to live on in this life we have ahead of us without the people we need here the most. 

But my own insignificant experiences with love and attachment can't relate. Not like _this._

I feel so useless. 

The lighting flickers from the candles burning randomly throughout the apartment. The power and phone lines have been knocked out for hours, not that it would really matter if they weren't. Someone's always stopping by to check in on us for one reason or another, and it won't be long before Bulma or Chi Chi or whoever is knocking on the door again to pretend that everything's going to be fine as long as they're here to help. 

The dishes rattle on the tray as I carry them from the kitchen to the bed with tiny steps, but it's not the chill from in here sending shivers skittering across my skin. 

A little bit of soup from the bowl spills over the side and onto the dish, but I don't bother to wipe it up either - it's not like Goten will eat it anyway. I'm lucky he's eaten today_ at all,_ never mind trying to get him to do it again. But regardless of his progress being painfully slow - if at all - I have to keep reminding myself that it's at least _that._

Working with so little will to live was - and still is - beyond what I could have ever imagined. To get him to even drink the slightest bit of water or soup, or sit up and show some sign life is like drawing blood from a stone. Sometimes, he drifts off for days at a time before moving an inch, and despite his family's enduring efforts, or Pan and Bra coming by after school to help me with household chores, everyday is stretching me thinner as I go. I'm starting to think I was wrong for trying. 

I really believed that I could do this on my own - Staying here with Goten, nursing him back to health, taking sole responsibility for my pregnancy no matter how much my parents still want me to come back to the Kame House and raise the baby there. Every night, I have to hear my father on the other end of the phone pretending that he and my mom aren't deeply disappointed with me, asking mundane questions he already knows the answers to, trying to act like all of this doesn't break his heart. His _'Little Chestnut'._

But I don't want everyone running to help 'poor helpless Marron' anymore. I need to be able to prove that I can pull it back together. That I wasn't some irresponsible kid who fucked up the second she moved out of the house and had to crawl back to mom and dad to pick up the pieces. That I could take care of Goten and myself, and take the real life responsibility to make this all work out. I lived through the embarrassment and humiliation of telling everyone how I wound up in this predicament - I thought I could handle anything after that. 

Its no surprise that Bulma's been telling me that I'm carrying too much stress for the baby - that I'm going to have a hard enough time without all this worry from caring for Goten around the clock as well as coping with such a strange pregnancy. I've already heard all the stories from Chi Chi and Videl, and as much faith as I have in Bulma to help deliver the baby here in the privacy of this apartment instead of in a hospital, I'm nervous for what is still yet to come. 

There aren't any books on how to survive a Saiyan pregnancy, as I should have expected, but I've been getting plenty of the gory information on the matter from three very vocal women who have dealt with this before. I'm only two weeks away now from delivering and I've already been warned that it's not going to get any easier. There are enough scary things about a normal human birth, yet I would do anything to be able to just walk into a hospital and have this baby where I know everything would just be an everyday procedure... routine. But a child with a tail is hardly routine. How could I ever explain that? 

I guess truth be told, it's been a lot more difficult than I've been admitting to everyone whose genuinely been asking about it, at least now that the initial shock is over... I've just become a good liar. Most of all to my parents. 

Outside, the storm rolls on. 

Fleeting thoughts of the old Goten sting my heart as I look up from the tray once I near his bed. 

He's turned away for the moment, curled up in the same position he's usually in these days, lying on the bed as if he were slowly sinking into it as the shallow intake of air barely expands his frame. His body has lost just about all the strong, muscular build it once had, instead now more defined by the outline of his spine and the hard angles of his shoulder blades. He only weighs 148 pounds now, which regardless of being an improvement to what he was at his worst, is still extremely dangerous for someone Goten's size, and especially dangerous for someone with Saiyan blood in them... or so I've been told. 

He's always cold. Still dying a little more each day he's reminded that Trunks isn't ever coming back... reminding me of the same. His eyes don't have the life they used to, but then again... he isn't the same man he used to be either, reinforcing my growing belief that it might have been a mistake to force him live on like this. He had already made his choice to die before I interfered with my own situation. 

Maybe Vegeta was right. 

He shifts his position. With some effort, he slowly manages to prop himself up on his elbow, still turned away from where I stand. A pull of the sheets exposes his bare back right down to where his drawstring pajama pants sit loosely on his hips. Only half of those intricate markings catch my eye. 

_Only half._

I miss _him._

The hurt hasn't gone away like I hoped it would by now. In fact, the closer my pregnancy gets to the end, the more I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not ever going to see Gotenks hold our baby in his arms, or be there to have a tiny hand grip one of his fingers. There will be no perfect little family for us. Living together to watch first steps and hear first words, or to see our child off to the first day of kindergarten and high school and college, knowing that the life we created reflects so much love and passion of the lifetime together we never got the chance to have. 

No. Those memories won't exist. The real things left about my life are very different from what I dream about when forget that I'm in this game without him - that Goten is so far away from getting better. That I'm barely twenty years old and am not only pregnant, but far from having even a normal human baby that I would at least know the first thing about raising. 

That I'm in this alone. That he never even existed in the first place. He was a ghost. 

And I miss him _so much._

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves as another gentle roll of thunder rumbles the floor beneath me. I reluctantly turn back to the kitchen with the soup and decide not to bother him with more food he won't want to eat. The rest will probably do him better anyway. 

But no sooner than I turn my back to him, I can already hear what I predicted would eventually be happening sometime tonight... not that I really expected Goten to have kept down the applesauce I gave him earlier. The most solid thing he hasn't thrown up so far has been soup, and even that's a gamble fifty percent of the time. 

I take a deep breath. Nothing's ever easy. 

Again, the lightning flashes. The wind rips past the building, daring to blow out the candles here inside. 

I feel a small twitch from the baby, followed by another. This baby never gives me a break, but just more of the thrills of carrying a Saiyan, so I've been told. I can feel the baby's growing power. I know he or she is going to be strong -_ really_ strong - and it scares me to death. 

Another hard kick from inside. _Wait..._

My legs are warm. No, _wet!_ A puddle under my feet? 

_No! Not now!!! It's too early!_

"G-Goten!" I drop the tray, crying out for him as if I think he's somehow just going to hop out of bed and come to my rescue. The glass and bowl of soup shatter on the floor. "My..._ my water broke_..." 

He immediately looks back at me from leaning over the bucket next to the bed just as my first contraction mercilessly grips me like a vice, twisting inside of me. Like a charley horse I can't stretch out and I buckle over. My mind floods with panic. 

_"This can't happen now! I need Bulma here! I can't have the baby like this!"_

The pain washes over me in a wave like the building fury of the storm outside. I can feel the baby's pressure, along with a sickening throb radiating from deep within. _This can not happen now!_

I clutch my belly - still so small regardless of the strength of what's inside - enduring an excruciating torture I can't even begin to explain to him. I'm so scared. I need a phone... but the power's out! 

_How am I going to be able to call anyone?!? I can't do this alone!_

Terrifying thoughts consume me in an instant of something going very wrong for the both of us, and I choke up without the slightest idea of what to do. I didn't plan on it happening this way. 

"Goten.... the baby... I-I'm..." I wince again harshly through my plea. I start crying. 

The baby stirs restlessly inside. I feel that hot pulse that I've been told about that tells me it's closer than I want to think about. Sayians aren't born with lengthy deliveries like human babies are born. There's no hours of labor and pushing to muscle through. It comes quick and savagely. Too quick to call for help, even if I could call Bulma to get her here as fast as she could. This baby is coming _now!_

I manage to stumble to the edge of the bed, lying on my back as I scream again. I feel like I'm being ripped in two. 

"Goten! Please! Help m-me... I can't... I... pl-please... I can't do this by myself. I... I don't know what t-to do," I sob uncontrollably, more from fear than anything else. "I'm so scared!" 

"I know," he tells me, barely above a weakened whisper. If I wasn't mistaken, I would say that he almost looks afraid. Hesitantly, he touches my belly, feeling the baby fighting to be born. His eyes widen at what he can sense. 

I immediately grab his wrist, desperately wanting him to tell me it's going to be okay, but another gigantic contraction hits me again before I can form the words. I clutch his hand against me, feeling the baby pushing harder to get out. My screaming doesn't make matters any better. I can't even hear myself anymore, and everything seems to be going numb except the one direction the baby's headed for. 

"The baby's coming! It's... it's _happening!_ Goten!" 

He moves slowly to the foot of the bed, looking at me with an expression that gives me no comfort whatsoever. I know he wants me to tell him what to do or expect, but I'm in no condition to be giving directions, even if I knew what they were. 

I flail my arms, grabbing handfuls of sheets and pillows from the white hot snap that nearly splits me in half. My eyes blur up with tears, praying that he's doing something down there to help this. I can barely see anymore. My teeth clench together tightly as I flex every muscle in my body. 

Another hot rip of pain. 

I feel the baby moving. I can feel everything stretching farther than it's supposed to. 

That nauseating swell of energy filling me inside again. Of power wanting to be born as much as our child wants to be. The sheets begin to tear in my hands. 

I squeeze my eyes shut. Screaming out the finish with enough force to rip my throat raw. It happens so fast. 

A baby cries. 

It's over. 

My lungs empty in heavy, heaving breaths. Too sore from crying to really realize what has happened. 

But there's a baby. 

I come to my senses and blink out the tears, just enough to see the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed illuminated in the faceted glow of the street lamps shining in the window behind them. Raindrops like colored diamonds on the panes, and everything else suddenly seems so insignificant. 

I've already forgotten the pain. 

Held so delicately, crying with a pair of lungs that can probably be heard all over West City, the smallest life fusses and kicks in the two hands still too scared to realize what has happened. Completely cradling the tiny, wet baby in just the palm of his hands, he looks on with eyes that don't believe what they are seeing. 

I'm in such a daze and wonder from witnessing something so precious, I can only manage to stare in awe of the moment I will keep with me for the rest of my life. Any words I could conjure up now would be useless. My heart is in my throat. 

Slowly, I partially sit up against the pillows behind me to get a better look. I suppose any other mother who has just given birth would demand to hold their child as soon as they could, but this is already a special circumstance all it's own. I'm in such awe, I barely notice his voice over the perpetual rain hitting the glass as he speaks so quietly. 

_"It's... a boy."_

And our lives are changed forever. Just like that. 

  
  


_________________________________________________________________________________________________________   
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

I've been standing here for a while. Trying to go unnoticed... at least as long as I can. 

Next to the extra bed brought down from the loft, Marron sleeps, completely wiped out from what she's gone through. From here, she looks as delicate as an angel. As beautiful and glowing as she's ever been. She handled it better than everyone thought she would, though. But she's strong. Like her parents. I'm proud of her. 

I hear the baby softly cooing in his crib near the window. 

I can't but help think of what he will look like someday. What kind of man he'll grow up to be. Soft, aqua hair, blending to black at the sides. Little fists clenched as he kicks and moves in his sleep. He looks just like his father would have if he was ever a baby... as strange as that sounds. I know he'll be strong, too. It's in his blood. 

The apartment is surprisingly quiet now, the complete opposite of what it was just a few hours ago; Three sets of grandmothers coming in and out only minutes after the birth, despite Marron probably wanting nothing more than some well deserved rest. Fussing about everything and trying to take care of a situation that had already happened. I think everyone was more in shock of how the baby was delivered at all... seeing how the only person here to help her was the one person everyone thought would never make it this far in the first place, never mind saving the day! I can't say it wasn't nice to see them proved wrong. 

More than one spark of life was lit this evening._ I now have a son _- that should be reason enough for anyone to live. 

I watch from afar, not to disturb anything, but I know I won't be able to stand aside for long. You don't get many second chances like this and I don't know if there will ever be another. 

But it's not long before the newborn kicks and squirms as all babies do, and the little voice soon cries out for attention in the dark. It only takes a moment before he is under the watchful gaze of a loving parent, standing on weak legs at the foot of the crib, calming him with soft little words and gentle touches to the face that has yet to see the rest of the world. 

It doesn't take long before he's carefully being lifted from the crib with cautious hands still unfamiliar with what they are holding. Wrapping him in a soft blanket. Not really knowing what to do with this tiny life created in such an unusual way, but comforting none the less. 

The baby calms, slowly falling back to sleep as he's gently cradled in rocking arms and looked apon with so much affection and love. But underlying the feeling of carrying your own son, I too know there's so much sadness from being reminded of what can never be. 

With quiet steps, the baby is carried to the dark, far corner of the room, holding the tiny newborn close and sinking against the wall to sit alone together in the corner. Curled up around the baby. Visibly losing the composure that is slowly starting to fade. Long overdue emotions begin to surface. 

For a moment, I contemplate interrupting at all. I should just let this happen. After all, I know what it feels like to be so hopeless when you don't want to be - when you want to be happy and the feeling just seems so foreign and lost compared to what you know. 

Perhaps this personal moment should be left untouched. Besides, who am I to interfere _now?_

But as I stand here - unnoticed and out of sight, quietly watching the pent up tears finally streaming down the face of the one person I never wanted to hurt - I feel that familiar ache in my heart that has reminded me this whole time what I've been missing the most. 

Without a sound, I approach, knowing in my heart that the closer I get, the more I know I will regret this later. 

The faint sound of a suppressed sobbing hiccup coming from the corner only makes it harder, but as soon as I get close enough to actually see my son - the tiny life I helped create - my own tears are already falling. 

I kneel down in front of them, but he doesn't notice me. Not yet, even though I'm close enough to touch him if I were to reach out. But once he feels the light from the golden ring over my head glowing warmly off his face, he knows. 

Slowly, he opens his eyes and looks up to see me. Something resembling devastation and disbelief washes over his face almost instantly, and fresh tears well up in his eyes, spilling down his cheeks without a blink. Unsteady breath shakes his body curled up around our sleeping newborn son. 

He's as beautiful as I remember him. 

No words need to be said. Nothing I could possibly say to him right now would explain how much I've missed him. How I feel so much regret for not being here when he needed me the most, and letting him suffer alone. It hurts so much to see what has happened to him since I've been gone - what the breaking of our bond has done to him. 

The dam breaks and I wrap my arms around the both of them, pressing the side of his face to mine, feeling the hot sting of his tears drip down my cheek. So much hurt. There's so much I want to say, but can't. 

_"I... I love you, Chibi. I've missed you."_ So simple compared to what I feel, but something I never thought I'd get the chance to say. 

His thin frame trembles, reluctant to release the fear of this being just a cruel trick his eyes are playing on him. I can feel the empty void in my heart filling with the energy that we used to share, remembering what it's like to feel whole again after being alone for so long. Feeling our soul deep inside me again when I thought it would never come back. I know he feels it, too. 

I want to stay like this forever, but I'm reminded that my time is limited. 

Gently, I pull away, looking deep into familiar eyes that haven't changed a bit, all though they now carry more heartache and pain then I remember. I smooth my hand across his cheek - still wet with tears that continue to fall - and my focus turns to the miniature sleeping form cradled in his arms. 

Slipping my hands under the blanket, trying to swallow the panging reminder that I might never again get this chance, I hold my son for the first and possibly only time. The lump in my throat makes it impossible to make words, but I know I don't need to. 

He's perfect. 

I almost don't know what to do, looking at the little face so reminiscent of his parents, feeling his strong ki hold the same signature as Goten's and my own, and as much as I've already fallen in love with him, I know it won't be easy to give him back. A little fuzzy tail pokes out from the corner of the blanket, curling around my wrist. 

I lose it instantly. 

"Tell him about me, Chibi. Tell him everything," I cry, wishing things were so much different than they are. Wishing this wasn't so unfair. 

But through my plea and futile attempt to take in as much of him as I can, he wakes, slowly opening his eyes to the world for the first time. Bright, blue eyes. _Looking right at me_. Grabbing my finger with all the strength I knew my son would have. My son. 

This is harder than I thought it would be, knowing he won't remember this when he's older. I won't be here to see him grow up or to tell him about who he is. Or to be here to give him everything he deserves. I want to give him so much, but instead, there is only one thing I can. 

_"Toran."_

I smile behind my tears and without a response, Goten nods at the name I've given our son, amid the tears of his own I know he's trying so hard to choke back. Placing his hand over mine, holding our son together and giving me the promise that he will always be here to tell Toran about me... about the father he never knew that loves him so much. 

_"Chibi..."_ I brush away the stray strands of black hair from his eyes, remembering too clearly how much it hurts to be away from him. My memories are nothing compared to the reality, no matter how much I need them to be. "I'll miss you." 

He shakes his head, losing the frail composure he had tried so hard to keep, tightening his grip on my hands and squeezing my arm with the little strength he has left at all. 

_"Please... You can't go. I need you..."_

For a second, I contemplate the ramifications of what would happen to me if I didn't go back, although it's hard to be a renegade angel when you're being watched so closely. But right now, if it were up to me, I would never go back. The paradise of Otherworld is nothing without him and I would give everything up for Goten in a second. 

But it's not up to me. My time is almost up. 

I hand Toran back to him, trying to memorize his face, wishing that he'd remember this someday more than anything, and I hold them both, feeling Goten sob hard against my shoulder. I kiss his forehead. Rubbing his back. Feeling complete again, even just for this moment. 

_You will never be alone, Chibi. You have a whole lifetime to remember how to be happy again, and I will be there with you for all of it. I love you. I always will._   
__   
__   
__   
__   
__ __

I don't know how long we stayed like that, but the minutes pass so quickly when you want time to stand still. But even though it wasn't nearly as close to the forever I wanted, I now know there will be a part of us that will always be together.   
  


_________________________________________________________________________________________________________   
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

I startle for a second. 

A baby moves in my arms, but still sleeping soundly as ever. 

The early morning light peeks through the clouds and through the apartment. A warm change from the rain and cold. 

I rub my eyes, still curled up in the corner, just the two of us. I must have fallen asleep here sometime in the night. 

But he's gone. 

It's hard to remember everything. There isn't any proof that he was ever here at all. Maybe it was just a dream. 

But I know it in my heart. I feel like he's still next to me, even now. 

I look down to my son. Toran. _Our son._

Slowly, I push myself up the wall to my feet. Toran wakes, but no crying. He just looks at me. His eyes reminding me so much of him. But it doesn't hurt to remember anymore. Not like it did before. I never want to forget. 

For Toran. 

I carry him to the bed instead of his crib. Not the fold out cot for me, but the big bed Marron still sleeps in; the one where she probably will continue to until she regains her strength. Trunks' bed. But I don't mind. I'll take care of her. I'll always be here to take care of both of them. I have a purpose now. 

Carefully, I place Toran on the bed, lying down next to him, but only for a moment. And I close my eyes as our son lies between us, gradually falling asleep though I try not to. But my eyes are heavy. And I feel at peace. 

I feel Trunks. 

I love him. I've always loved him. _I always will._ But I know now there's a whole lifetime to live for him that's still ahead of the three of us. 

And I know I won't ever be alone.   
  


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:: **_to be continued_** :: **please review** :: 


	16. The Conclusion

**THE STORY OF YOU AND ME**   
by djFusion 

**** PART ELEVEN ****  
_co- written by Kinomi and djFusion _  
  
The sun is shining over the far off Pouzu Mountains. As with every other day, the view from up here is breathtaking. An absolute perfection of a day, although I have to admit that the ledge I'm standing on right now gives a particular advantage over everywhere else. Up here, nine stories above everything and standing on the very edge of my balcony is my new favorite place to think. 

Even just catching a hint of the fresh summer in the breeze vividly reminds me of home in a way few things can. This is the kind of day that makes me want to run through the fields near my parent's house like I used to as a kid. Or catch fish in the lake like I used to do with Gohan before he went away to college, or in the same stream my father fished in when he was my age. It never occurred to me when I was younger that I would miss all of that as much as I do now. 

Because I've had so much time to think about things over the past seven years since my life completely changed, I've finally grown to understand why Trunks used to think it was so great that I got the chance to live out in the middle of nowhere when he always had to live in a city. I could never understand that. I always thought living in the countryside was so boring compared to the big, hi-tech house Trunks got to live in. It never occurred to me what a cage a city can be to a Saiyan. 

Trunks knew better from an early age. He lived in West City his whole life, where you can't do anything without drawing attention to yourself. On top of that, he grew up with constant pressure from his father to become who he was born to be in a place he couldn't. In a job he couldn't. In a whole life built for him by his mother that he didn't belong in. Granted, Trunks adapted pretty well to the lifestyle he was handed, whether he wanted it or not, but it had it's price. He lived with more tension and stresses than I've _ever_ had. I might have been the hyper one as a kid, but Trunks was constantly strained by a restlessness he could never satisfy. 

But I lived in the country, where I was allowed to be Saiyan all the time, even though I still had to endure the occasional lecture about 'trying to make the effort to act more human' from my loving mother. Deep down, I knew both my parents just wanted me to be myself... whoever I would someday turn into, but I was too ashamed to tell them the truth. To tell them about me and Trunks, even though - deep down - I knew they would have understood if I told them. 

The very definition of irony. 

Once we were together on our own, nothing changed like we thought it would. We just got used to hiding the only things left about us that made us so different. Trying to be two regular, everyday guys living in the city and pretending to be like everyone else. Sometimes it was just lying to a new girlfriend. Or to our parents. Making yet another excuse as to why we were still living together. Coming up with more and more stupid loopholes to justify to ourselves what we were doing, the Saiyan in us starting to disappear. The desire to fight and train, to share our bodies with each other and act on instincts... they became things so far away from where we had put ourselves, it was hard to remember how things used to be. 

We spent so much effort resisting the simplest things we needed. I needed Trunks. He needed me. But out there in a city that could never truly understand us, the simplest solutions can be the most complicated to make. 

Live with tension like that for long enough and it can drive a person to do stupid things. 

Not until after we fucked up everything we possibly could have and we were absolutely forced to remove ourselves from anything that could interfere - left alone with nothing but the reality of our evolution - were we able to admit and accept what we had become. For just a second, I finally let go and listened to my heart. To see Trunks as more than the boy I had been best friends with for longer than my memories could take me. Who had been at my side for the best and worst times of my life. My blood brother. The other half of my memories. The other half of my soul. _My life._

And finally... we weren't afraid let it happen. 

The last chapter of our story. The bitter, fucking end.   
  


As quickly as the memories come back to me, a thick cloud of smog and pollution smothers my senses and drags me back to the present. Looking as if I'm probably about to take a flying leap off the edge of my own balcony, all though my ability to defy gravity cuts out any risk of my becoming a part of the pavement below. Besides, I've always had pretty good balance. 

But even up here, with this amazing view and an endless, open sky in front of me, I feel like that bird who's completely outgrown the cage. There's too much in me that feels trapped now that I remember what it feels like to be free, but I've learned from my mistakes, and I know I can remember how to listen to my heart again. 

My life has little resemblance to the way it was before. I have a son to take care of now. A strong, powerful son who I can't even teach to transform yet, or to control and focus his ki because there isn't any safe place to do it in a city. There's so much tension in him already. I can see it in his eyes. 

And Marron. 

Marron. 

_Marron._

She gave up everything for me when I was the one who once promised to take care of her, never asking anything of me or anyone, even when she really needs it. Almost completely on her own, she's picked up the pieces and gotten her life back together when I couldn't. Marron's barely twenty-seven now. I was still a broken piece of nothing at twenty-seven, and here she is, raising our son with so much love and patience, despite the fact that he can sometimes be too much for her to handle. 

She makes everything work out. The glue that's keeping all of us together. I don't know what I would do without her. 

...Which may be the reason why I've been giving so much thought lately to exactly who I am. Or should I say who I've _become._

This time, I won't make the same mistake.   
  


From where I stand, I can hear Marron inside, scolding Toran for something or other, which knowing our son he richly deserves. The slide of the balcony door closing cuts off Marron's raised voice a moment before Toran runs out to mirror my posture next to me and he stares up at the clouds. Not daring to come up to the ledge, he knows better - he still has to work on his flying. 

I glance over for a second and smile. There's flour all over the front of his shirt, no doubt from whatever Marron's been making in the kitchen. Or _was_ making in the kitchen. 

Rather than looking upset that he's received a hell of a tongue lashing from his mother, I can see out of the corner of my eye that he's grinning. That same mischievous, conniving smile that always graced Trunks' lips when we caused trouble. And I know. 

"Why do you do that to her?" I ask him without drawing my focus away from the mountains, already suspecting the answer. Toran's always been quite the handful, but I've never had a problem dealing with our son because I understand him. I secretly cherish that little stubborn side of him because it is the Trunks in him shining through. But he still can be a lot for Marron to deal with sometimes. She's tough, but her son is part Saiyan. Not really much of a contest there. 

He shrugs. "I dunno…" Typical seven-year-old logic. "It's fun. She can yell even louder than Grandma, have you noticed?" he asks me. 

I don't have to ask which Grandmother he's referring to. I know he means _my_ mother. He calls his other grandmothers by their first names, Bulma at her insistence, and Eighteen because she looks more like an aunt than a grandmother. 

Before I can give my disapproval for him baiting his mother for a reaction, I look over to see Toran's face grow serious, suddenly seeming older than seven. 

"Dad, where's my _real_ father?" 

I blink. _Real father?_ Where did that come from? 

For the past seven years, he's never asked about this... even the obvious question about why he has three sets of grandparents while all the other kids in his school only have two. I don't want to give him answers he won't be able to understand, at least not until he's much older. 

"Well, why do you ask?" I start, hiding my concern about how I'm going to respond to him. 

Toran looks at the ground, fidgeting with his feet. "I know you told me you and Papa Trunks are both my dads, but I asked mom and she said my real dad left a long time ago. Did he leave because of me?" 

This brings be down from the ledge. 

"_No, no._ That's not it at all! Toran, your... your real father loved you very, very much..." I kneel down and put my hands on his shoulders, noticing how strong the muscles in his arms have been getting as I fight to sound strong in front of my son, still a little thrown from hearing a mention of Gotenks out of him. "He loves you more than anything. But even though he's gone, I want you to know... there will always be a part of him here with you. _Always_." 

"Then... why doesn't he come back?" 

That old, familiar ache in my chest again. 

And another simple question so complicated to explain. I don't even know where to begin.   
  


* * *

"_Toran!!!_ Don't think you can hide from me out here, young man! Get back in here and clean this mess up!" I yell after sliding the balcony door open with more force than I probably needed to use. Having a child like Toran around has inadvertently been making me stronger. 

I startle the both of them. But in the moment after finding my son out here with Goten, I realize there was a serious moment happening here before I went and interrupted it. My son suddenly looks so innocent, which is something he usually doesn't pull off very well, and by the way Goten was talking to him - eye to eye on his knees with such a concerned expression - I can tell this was something I might not be a part of. 

"Oh, I... I didn't... mean to interrupt." I apologize, still trying to sound somewhat annoyed at my son. 

"No, it's all right..." Goten says, looking back at Toran as he gives a rub to his shoulders. "We'll talk about this later, son. Okay?" 

Toran just nods. 

Without saying anything else to him, Goten stands up and gives Toran a pat on the back, sending him back into the apartment to leave us alone out on the balcony. 

I wait until Toran's out of ear-shot before speaking. 

"I'm sorry, Goten. I didn't know you were talking to him." 

He plays it off, but I know something's jolted him. "It's okay. Really." He looks past over my shoulder to our son who I hope is in the kitchen washing up. Goten tries not to smile about it, knowing I'm not as amused about this as he is. "So, what happened this time?" 

"Oh, nothing," I answer sarcastically. "Your son has just been spending his time lately using whatever he can get his hands on as weapons against the furniture. I think he's been more antsy today than usual." I take a deep, preparing breath, looking back over my shoulder to see my son standing on one of the stools around the center island, pushing off one counter and flipping over to land on another, wielding a spatula to fend off imaginary enemies. I swivel my head back to Goten without any surprise on my face. "Maybe we should get him out of this city this weekend. Go let him work some of this energy out of his system." 

"... I know." 

From inside, another big crash interrupts my thoughts. 

I close my eyes. "Just tell me if _he's_ at least okay?' I ask, not wanting to turn around to see what part of my kitchen has become his latest causality. 

"Yeah, _Toran's_ fine. But..." 

"I don't want to know." I can already hear Goten trying not to laugh, and open my eyes to see my suspicions confirmed. For a second, I try to act pissed off that he finds this so damn funny, but in reality, I can't help but laugh with him.   
  


Our son has been a handful. 

Mind you, I'm sure most seven year olds wreck and ravage the houses they live in, too, but Toran is different for other reasons only obvious to his family. He has more energy than any other child I've ever met, and I'm starting to get mildly concerned about what he'll be like in a few years from now. His sheer strength is incredible; enough to where I can't even enroll him in some sort of activity group anymore because his body is clearly not developing at the same rate as other kids his age. He has actualdefined muscles that clearly don't look like they belong on the body of a seven-year-old boy. How do you explain that to the other mothers at the park who point and stare at him? 

Well, at least he doesn't have a tail anymore. 

But above all - without first noticing his immense power - Toran is not just some cute little kid who blends in with the rest of them, or a handsome little boy that you know will someday grow up to be some handsome young man. _He's beautiful,_ and this is not just coming from the mouth of a usually very biased mother. Just the few times I've attempted to bring him to the playground in the West City Park it's been blatantly obvious that Toran is unique. Just his coloring - two toned black and aqua spiked hair, and crystal, vibrant blue eyes - make him more his father's son than I want to keep realizing every time I look at him. 

I can't take him anywhere without people asking me questions about him or giving us strange looks, all of which I just have to lie about anyway. 

And I know my son very well. I know he wants to be outside more than I can take him, but since bending the metal bars of the jungle gym at the park with his bare hands, there aren't many places I can take him anymore. 

Even more difficult is the fact that he's begun practicing how to use his ki in the apartment more than he admits to, not that I really know much about that subject to know what is an experiment or what is what Goten's already taught him. Saiyan ki is much different than the energy my dad learned to use or the synthetic variety given to my mom, and once Goten showed Toran how to tap into it, it's been all he's wanted to do lately. I've forbidden him to use it indoors, since every time he does it means the end of another piece of furniture, but I know I won't be able to contain him forever. 

About every other weekend, Goten takes him out of the city to visit his grandparents and Gohan's family in the country, and every time they come back, Toran always acts a little strange. Like the wild demons in him have been calmed for a while. Dende knows what they do out there, but I know Toran would want to do it all the time if they could. It's just too far to make the hour and a half commute as much as he would like. 

But above all my concerns about Toran and being able to raise him right, I still find myself at night worrying about Goten. He has gotten stronger over the years, having regained most - if not all of the strength he lost after Trunks died. It took a few years, but eventually and ever so slowly, he started to come around, but still not back to the old Goten that I can hardly remember anymore. He's grown up; more mature than he used to be. There's so much history in his eyes now that I don't know about, and might never know, since for the most part, Goten can be pretty quiet these days. 

I haven't dared asked him any questions. I don't think anyone has. 

He thinks about the past a lot. I can tell. Like today, even before Toran ran out to the balcony to hide from me, Goten had been out there all afternoon, just staring out into nowhere. Just standing on that ledge again and scaring me half to death, but I can guess what it is he dwells on. I wonder sometimes if he's ever talked to Toran about his past. About he and Trunks? About... Gotenks_?_ Especially now that I know our son has gotten to the age where the curiosity about such things is starting to set in. I know so little about who Gotenks really was; I used to think I had almost nothing to tell my son about his father. 

But all of the qualities that I fell in love with that belonged to Gotenks, also belong to the man I still live with. The man I share a child with. Not metaphorically or adoptive. The same blood that runs through Goten's veins also runs through my son's. Goten is as much my son's father as Gotenks was. 

Goten was the biggest part of Gotenks. I know that fact in my heart now, despite it being so hard to remember. And over the years, I've grown to see Goten for who he has become - the man I can't imagine not being here with us. With me. I need him. 

_Him._ Not Gotenks. _Goten._

And suddenly, more than ever, I want to finally let go of the past.   
  


* * *

  
  
_Him._ Gotenks. 

I can't get my mind off him. 

In my desire to keep Trunks' memory alive in my son's eyes, I keep forgetting that the experience of his conception was very different for his mother. It's not like it's ever been spoken about around here. 

She fell in love that night with the one person I should know better than anyone, but it's not that simple. She gave her heart and trust to that man. I know this because I was just as responsible for taking it away. I remember some of what happened that night we fused. But a lot of it - most of it - has been blurred over too much time to remember exactly how things happened. 

I remember Marron that night, though. I remember her being happy. Not like I'd ever seen her, but a real, true happiness that has yet to come back since that night. And I was happy, but I was confused. We never wanted things to happen the way they did, but... they did. And now... we have a son. 

But up until now, I've always thought of Toran's parents as being the three of us: Marron, Trunks, and myself. _My_ version, I guess. It never occurred to me that Marron might have a different one. She still thinks about him. Remembers him. This whole time, she hasn't stopped loving him or wanting him any less. Wishing he were here for her son instead of me. And it makes me... _jealous_... in some kind of egocentric, convoluted way I can't even begin to explain.   
  


I pause near the wall by the kitchen and watch Marron as she stands there looking out the window over the sink. Resting her chin on her hands. She doesn't look any different than she did a half hour ago when she made me a sandwich, but somehow - subtly - she's changed in my eyes... 

I wonder for the first time what's put that dreamy and somewhat sad expression on her face as she rests it against her clasped hands. Is she thinking of him?Is that the reason she's here, in this house with Toran and I? Because of _him?_ Because this place is the only thing she has left to hold on to him? The thought makes something in my chest hurt a little... though mostly because I can turn those exact same questions back at myself. 

As I let my eyes roam over her beautiful face and slim body, her long, silken hair, I realize... I want her here for me. Not him. 

She must have heard me as I shift minutely to lean against the wall, because her eyes drift over to mine. She doesn't smile at me in welcome like she usually does. Something in my expression must have caught her, like my change in perception of her has caught me... but as I look into her clear eyes it occurs to me - I know every inch of this woman except what lays in her heart. What goes on behind those beautiful blue eyes. Suddenly... I want to know. Very much. 

"I was thinking," I say hesitantly, trying not to let my thoughts invade my words, "would you like to take a walk with me? To enjoy the weather? It's... just so beautiful outside today." 

She turns to face me completely with her arms behind her back as she leans back against the countertop. Studying my motives for a moment as a simple smile graces her lips. It's not often either one of us makes an effort to spend time alone together. In fact, I can't remember when the last time was that we were together without Toran. 

"Goten... I'd love to. But what about To-" 

"We'll just drop him off at my parents house on the way." 

Already, this is clearly more than the simple walk Marron thought I was talking about. She straightens up, questioning my sudden suggestion, but her doubt quickly turns to a smile. 

"Well... just let me get ready."   
  


As soon as we arrive at my parent's house after the long car ride there, we leave Toran with specific instructions not to get into any trouble while he stays with my folks. Pointless to tell him that, though, since my dad has no problem getting into as many kinds of trouble as Toran can, much to the perpetual disapproval of my mom. 

We leave the little cluster of houses that stand alone in the nature surrounding them, and head down the hill towards the sun that is just starting to set between the Pouzu Mountains in front of us. Looking back, I wouldn't trade my childhood memories of living out here for anything. Every time I come out here, the memories get stronger. It's becoming more important to me that I give my son the same chance to have more of these memories, too. 

I take Marron up past Gohan's tree with the notch cut out of it, and even past the stream that always has the biggest fish to catch. We walk for almost an hour in silence. Only taking in the scenery that hasn't changed at all since I've grown up in it. I can't say as much about myself. 

Once we reach the foot of the cliff - the same one we can only see the top of from my parent's house - I offer my hand to help her up the near-vertical wall of rock in front of us. Normally, I wouldn't think to question Marron's strength. I would bet that if she were properly trained in martial arts, she could probably take on anyone without the Saiyan gene, including my sister-in-law, but this particular cliff isn't meant for just any human to climb. 

She looks at my hand and laughs sarcastically at what I've implied. "Goten, I'm not climbing a cliff like this! I can't--" 

"I don't remember saying I was going to _climb_ it," I say bluntly, still giving her my hand. 

Now I know Marron understands what I'm offering, and naturally, she's got some hesitation. But slowly, she gives me her hand, subconsciously telling me with a single look that it's taking a lot of trust in me to let me do this. She wraps her arms tightly around my neck and squeezes her eyes closed, preparing herself for something I now know she's obviously never experienced. I had always assumed her parents had flown with her before, but... I guess I was wrong. 

"Well, there's always a first," I tell her. 

And gently, I wrap my arm around her waist and push my energy downwards, lifting us off the ground as slowly as I can to not freak her out. Gradually, I can feel her vice-like grip lessening as I whisper in her ear for her to trust me. But it's only once we reach the top of the grassy cliff does she open her eyes and realize why I've taken her so far. 

A tiny gasp escapes her, immediately commenting on how incredible the view is without anything to obstruct it like in the city. We've caught the most perfect point of the sunset, too, just as the sun turns to a fiery orange and magenta as it burns between the crack in the mountains. I was hoping we'd catch it. It's been a long time since I've been up here to see it. 

We sink down into the thick, untouched grass, sitting back on our hands and watch nature's paintbrush go to work. The entire sky is washed with an incredible smudge of orange and purple this time of year. It's easy to forget this vast and heart wrenching beauty living inside a landscape of concrete. Where you can't even see the sunset behind the buildings if you wanted to. 

"The way the sun peeks between those mountains. _And the colors!_ It's..._ so beautiful_. I've never seen a view like this, not even back on the island. How did you ever find this spot up here?" 

Memories pour like a waterfall. A deep breath of the warm summer air fills my lungs. It's so easy to remember out here. 

"We used to fly up here as kids all the time. This was our secret place that nobody else knew about," I turn to her and smile, trying to hide the hint of sadness that's been implied in what I've said. "...until now, I guess." 

I can tell I've made her feel awkward by mentioning Trunks, even just in a word. It's been seven years and I've never once mentioned him to anyone but Toran, but I guess nobody has asked either. I know they've wanted to. Especially Marron. I can just tell, but I also know she wouldn't ever bring it up unless I said something first.   


"Oh..." she says quietly, looking down, not sure of what I'm trying to say to her. I'm not even sure if I know either. 

I lighten the mood. "Someday, I'm sure Toran will find this place and think it's this secret nobody else knows about, too." I laugh to myself a second before that thought of my son coming here actually hits me. 

"Goten? Are you okay? I lost you for a second." 

The glazed over look on my face must be giving me away. I pull myself out of my train of thought, but I shouldn't avoid this and change the subject again. She can see right through me. I know it. And it's part of the reason I've taken her this far. I bite the bullet and force a weak little laugh to pretend like this is going to be an easy conversation; like this is just some after-thought that hasn't been eating away at me for months. 

"Isn't it funny... how your own life can seem abstract to you," I say seemingly out of nowhere. "After looking back at all that's happened." 

She smiles apologetically, shaking her head at what I'm trying to say to her. "I... don't think I understand." 

My hands are fidgety in the grass as I try to put my thoughts into logical words. "I guess... I never I thought I'd have a son to show all these things to someday. It's strange, you know? I see so much of me in him.... it's made me think a lot about being that age again," I say truthfully, avoiding eye contact and focused intently on the blades of grass in my hand. "I guess I haven't remembered in a while... until recently" 

She smiles as she smoothes her hand across my back, all though it feels more like a caress to me than she might be intending it to be. The muscles in my back tighten anyway. 

"You have a lot to teach him, Goten. A lot that I can't. It's why we need you so much." She tries to be comforting, but I can hear the twinge of heartache in her voice. She pauses a moment before adding with a different tone in her voice, "It's why _I've_ needed you." 

I don't have to turn around to see the look in her eyes. I can feel it. This is flirting with a subject not yet touched by either of us in a long, long time. I know that she thinks about it more than she's let on. So do I. 

But I don't want the facts of what our son is to be the only thing connecting us. I want us in this together. I want her to understand. 

"Hold out your hands," I tell her, repositioning myself on the grass to face her. 

I get a sideways glance, wary of what I have planned. 

"Trust me. I won't hurt you." 

"I know," she responds quickly, finding my eyes to let me known that she does indeed trust me with anything as she places her hands in mine. I probably could have asked her to jump of the cliff and she would have. 

I contemplate for a second of how I should do this, since it's something I've always taken for granted that the person I was with already understood. I don't want to scare her, and I definitely don't want to hurt her. I'll just have to keep it small. 

"Here..." I say, facing her palms towards each other a few inches apart, putting my hands on the outside of hers. "Just let your body relax..." 

And without telling her anything about what I was about to do, I focus my energy and push it through her hands, forming a tiny ball of raw, golden ki between her palms. 

At first she flinches, but once the initial shock subsides of feeling it for the first time, she relaxes and lets me show her. Slowly, I can feel her own energy releasing into mine as her eyes remain transfixed on the illumination between her palms, studying it closely as if it were an optical illusion. It never occurred to me that she hasn't seen Saiyan ki up close before. It is quite different than the variety her parents have surely shown her. 

"So... it is alot different than human ki, huh? It's... it's incredible. But ... how can you just... you know... _do this? _Without powering up like my dad has to?" 

"It's just a concentration of pure energy that's always living inside your body. It's the same energy that connects us to nature. It just takes some practice to find it and control it, but it's easy once you know how. I've been able to do it since, well... I guess since I've been around Toran's age." I lower my voice to a soft whisper, dropping my face to meet hers and interrupting her focus on the glow between her hands. "You should just see what your son can do now." 

She suddenly recoils her hands away from mine and the ki quickly fades. Instead, she turns back towards the view in front of us, rubbing her hands together, no doubt still tingling. I can tell I've make her upset somehow. 

"Marron?" 

"I don't know anything abo-" She stops abruptly, squeezing in what probably amounts to a waterfall of emotions that have been pent up for ages. "I don't know anything about all of this, Goten. I never learned to train and fight like you did. How will I ever understand my own son?" 

Like a reflex, I put my hands on her face to turn her back to me. "Toran needs you because you're his mother. Just because you're not a fighter doesn't mean anything. Look at Bulma. She's never trained a day in her life and she..." I trail off. "And ... she's... she's been a great mother to Bra, hasn't she?" 

I'm not fooling either of us. As well as I know Bulma's daughter, we both know I wasn't referring to her. 

I move back to where I was, wishing I could think more before I speak. Now there's silence again.   
  


By now, the sun has completely set, and I realize that it's been quiet for a while. Marron hasn't said a word, but I know because I've left so much about me in the dark, she's too scared to ask. 

Marron deserves to know everything about me. She's why I'm even here at all. 

"He's still a part of me, Marron... even after all that's happened. I... I can still feel his soul living inside of me somewhere... " 

I look back to her, and every ounce of hesitation or fear that might have existed in me melts away at the sight of her face. 

"I love him. And every time I look into our son's eyes, I see him - that trouble making, arrogant little brat of a kid that changed my life forever. And I miss him. I miss him so much." I stop before I get ahead of myself. "I can't describe to you what it feels like to have your soul ripped out of your body. I don't even think there are even words meant for something that. But I felt it as it happened. Leaving me empty of any desire to live anymore. I was nothing. A bottomless void that felt... absolutely nothing. I was dead without him." 

Things I've known, but never heard myself say out loud. 

"In fact, if I was dead, I probably wouldn't have known the difference. I didn't want to exist without him. There was nothing left for me here." 

Her face is stained with tears as much as mine now, still looking away towards the mountains, listening to my words still lingering in the air between us. 

"But you were there. Giving me hope. A reason to keep going after I though I had lost everything worth living for. And somewhere along this long, crazy road my life has led me since Trunks... it happened. You started filling that empty place in my heart I thought only to salve with love for our son. And I didn't feel hollow anymore, like an empty shell walking around and killing time until my body died. You prodded and pushed and demanded, forcing me to get up and live... even if only for Toran. And I did." 

I steady my nerves for a second. My heart is racing enough to where she can probably hear it beating through my shirt. 

"And days became weeks. And months piled into years. And before I knew it... _you _were everything to me. Toran was my everything. And I wanted to live again. It hit me like a ton of bricks one day out of the blue, the realization that somewhere along the line of picking up the pieces - in the day-to-day routine of raising Toran and getting better, I... I had fallen absolutely head over heels in love with you." 

A tiny, choked cry escapes her mouth before she catches it. Emotions torn between surprise and something I have yet to decipher. 

"I'm in love with you, Marron. I'm not afraid to say it, and I don't want to spend another day of my life without having you know that. I love you." 

And again, there's a long silence from the both of us. 

I can hear birds miles away. I can hear the wind I can't even feel yet. It's so quiet between us; I can hear her heartbeat, nearly louder than my own right now. 

Her voice almost catches me off guard. Barely audible over the silence. "I know. And... I love you too, Goten. I do. I just..." 

"Tell me." 

"I'll never be to you what he was. How can I compete with what the two of you had together?" 

"Marron, you don't have to compete with anything. What Trunks and me had was what it was, and I don't regret a moment of it. It was a life I wouldn't want to share with anyone else. But you and I are something so different than what me and Trunks ever were, and I don't want to share this life with anyone else either. I needed Trunks then. But I need you _now_." 

I make no attempt to wipe the tears dripping down my cheeks, just sitting in the grass with my hands clasped loosely around my knees. Managing to somehow keep myself composed with a deep, shaky breath in. Wishing she would say something. Like that I haven't completely overwhelmed her. Or that she wants to stay. With me. At all. 

And gently... with the lightest touch, her hand gently reaches my face. Warm and soft. Like the echo I can only hear in my heart. I close my eyes, leaning into her hand as she turns my face to hers, and I release the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding in. 

For the first time since everything about my world had changed, I realize that the other person, sitting right next to me with her hand on my face, understands exactly what it means to lose someone you love, and find hope again after you once thought all hope was gone.   
  


* * *

  
  
I trace the contours of his face with trembling fingertips, noting the curve of his cheek, the shadowed sweep of his bangs. His perfectly bowed lips; all the beautiful lines of a face I etched into my memory so long ago. I've been in love with Goten for so long. It's just taken me a while to see it. 

But before I have another second to think about what I'm doing, he places his hand over mine; still pressed against his cheek, and the look on his face that I might have mistaken for pain a moment ago quickly melts into this long awaited release. 

"I'm so sorry, Marron. We never meant to hurt you." 

I smooth my thumb over a trail of tears on his face. "Goten, you don't have to." 

"No. I betrayed your trust after promising to take care of you. I never meant to--" 

"But you _are_ taking care of me," I bravely smile, cutting him off before he starts apologizing for things that are so far in the past. I want to live in the now. 

And suddenly, with such a tiny change of my perspective, the man sitting in front of me is no longer the same man I've been taking care of and nursing back to health all these years since Trunks died. He's not the same man in whose arms I found comfort during a moment of weakness long ago, or the man I've been thankful to just have around to help me raise our son. 

For the first time, I look at Goten like... he's my whole world. Like he's the only person who could ever understand me. This whole time - since everything's happened to us - I've been staying to help him get better. But he's _been_ better. For a long time. And for a long time, I've really been staying just because... _I love him_. 

I want him to read what is in my soul. I don't want there to be any doubt that I'm here because we are meant to be together. That our destiny has led us to this place, this moment. 

Black eyes lock with mine, and in this long drawn out moment stolen from time, I let him see everything; all the love and desire and intensity of my need for him. Everything I thought I would never feel again. Everything I want to share with Goten.   


* * *

My head fills with a soft humming and I feel the sensation of a whisper light caress moving against the back of my neck. 

Without a word, I reach for the lone lock of blonde hair resting against her shoulder. An intentional brush of my knuckles against the side of her breast draws a reflexive gasp, automatically bringing back a lazy smile to my face. I let go of the lock, watching as the long, curling strand settles back down at her breast before dragging my gaze up to meet her eyes. A wave of red-hot desire hits me hard as I look at the soft, slender woman in front of me. Intense, longing, urgent desire fires my blood as I remember how good it feels to be with her. The person I'm giving my heart to. My body to. 

This new life I'm not holding back. 

With gentle pressure of my fingers beneath her chin, I tip Marron's face upwards. Blue eyes flecked with silver gaze back at me with an expression hovering in the depths of need. The pad of my thumb caresses the gentle curve of her jaw, brushing across her skin. She tries to suppress the delicate shiver running through her from my touch, but she can't quite pull it off. 

Throughout my touch, Marron remains unnaturally still, her eyes glued to mine as if bound by some powerful spell beyond our ability to break. Under my increasing gaze, her breath quickens, now coming in deep, shaky gasps. Puffs of air warm the flesh of my thumb as I run it over her bottom lip. 

There is still no sign of protest as my hand slides over her smooth skin to lightly cup the side of her face. A small smile touches my eyes when she can't stop herself from pressing her cheek into my palm, her eyelids fluttering shut for a fleeting moment. Feather light eyelashes brushing the tip of my finger. 

I slide my hand around her waist, coming to rest at the small of her back and splaying my fingers to draw her a little nearer. A warm feeling spreads in my chest as there is still no attempt made to pull away or to tell me that I'm wrong to assume. 

For a long time, I've questioned to myself over and over again if our broken hearts would ever stop aching, if we would ever be able to find the way to keep going. If fate would take us to the right place, or only leave us lost and alone forever. Wondering if fortune would follow us to the new life growing between us, or if I would ever be able to give my heart away again after knowing the pain of having it once torn out. If I could imagine the thought of my life without her, or if loving Marron is somehow being disloyal to Trunks. 

I swallow hard, and know in my heart that Trunks would want me to go on. And if ever there had existed the smallest possibility I could have ever let Marron go, it had just vanished forever.   
  


* * *

  
  
I remain perfectly still, staring up at him with wide eyes, ready and willing to drown in his liquid gaze if he'll let me. I would do anything for him. 

He only has to ask. 

And without another second passing, I'm melting my body against his. 

The soft brush of his fingertips against my cheek. 

Firm lips soon pressed against mine. Light and warm. 

Our kiss deepens until we share one breath. One heart beat between us. 

Losing ourselves. 

Not afraid. 

Not looking back.   


* * *

  
  
The taste of her is like sunshine and air. Like fresh rain on green grass. Like a spring breeze that holds an illusive hint of honey and vanilla. 

I want everything. _All_ _of her_. I want that piece of herself she's always held back. 

Reluctantly, I draw away, lifting my head only to lose myself in the beauty of her face. I trace its graceful lines with a languid gaze as deep in my chest my heart constricts painfully at the intensity of emotion that she invokes. Awakening my heart with a new, yet familiar ache that only tells me I'm alive again. 

I look into her eyes, our bodies taut with the ancient instinct to mate, and we find ourselves quickly losing the hesitation we held only moments ago. 

Through eyes burning with desire and need, I watch her undo against me, listening to the increasing tempo of her breathing as I bend my head to her neck. Marron's warm scented flesh is intoxicating, and with every bite, lick and suck I inflict on her sensitive skin, she writhes against me even more. Her little mewling cries of pleasure I remember and love so much excite me, slowly driving me crazy with need. My arousal strains painfully against my confining pants, growing impossibly harder every time she lets out another breathy moan in my ear. 

Under the influence of pleasure - the very taste of Marron driving me mad - my control completely slips.   
  


* * *

  
  
Peeled off layer by layer, our clothing somehow finds itself in a pile beside us. I can barely recall how. 

I lay back onto the soft, thick grass, never taking my eyes off him. In the freshly set sun, Goten's body is highlighted to make him look like a statue chiseled straight from marble. His long, spiked bangs blow carelessly in his eyes. Eating me alive with his gaze, making him look almost too perfect to exist, but this time, I'm certain he does. 

Slowly, he lowers his body over mine, whispering my name with awed wonder as I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. Suddenly afraid that if I don't hold on tight enough, he'll disappear and this will all just turn out to be a dream. But this time, I know it won't. 

Soft, tender lips find mine again, pressing my body to his as I inhale the warm sent of his skin. His tongue entwines with mine with so much need and passion. To take in every ounce of me with the same feeling of longing I want to give to him in return. 

Trembling as I feel warm waves of desire wash over me, I'm already drowning in our kiss. Our naked bodies against each other's, the hot feel of his skin and the hard, taut muscles underneath it as he flexes to control himself. Desperate for the touch of a woman. 

Without any coaxing, I reach down to the hard length between my thighs, and slowly guide him into my body, forcing out a sharp exhale of breath from his chest at the first touch of sensation he feels. Biting his bottom lip and using every ounce of restraint he can summon. A vibrating moan from his throat. 

With little preamble and much failed resistance, he suddenly pushes forward, sheathing himself in my core and forcing a muffled groan from the both of us. But when instincts take over and my hips begin moving in tandem with the pace he's setting, he knows he's going to drive me insane with want.   


* * *

  
  
I read her body's every response in the flush of her cheeks, the hitch in her breath, and those soft, feminine mewling cries that rip an answering moan from my throat. Only seconds ago, the air had been filled with her silent cries of _'please, please'_. Now only our jagged breathing can be heard as we both fight to regain control. I want to make her burn for me like I do for her, because if that one time after Toran had been born was for me, then this time will be for Marron. And every time after... is for_ us_. 

Ancient instincts assert themselves over Marron's relatively inexperienced body and she begins to move with me without the need of any guidance. Our rhythm becomes one. 

I grip her hips, thrusting myself deeper into her velvety warmth, and every time I pull back, I feel like I've lost something, only to find it again and again as I slide back in. The sound of our bodies coming together accompanied our moans and cries rise around us as I rock us towards an impending release. 

I give her no choice in the matter as I hit that secret spot inside her repeatedly, and as if on cue, her muscles contract violently, working with delicious amounts of pressure. Her fingers begin to claw at my shoulders, the pain already forgotten as I increase my efforts to push her over the edge. Around the heat that slicks in and out, I can feel her beginning to contract around me, squeezing me with surprising strength. 

My own breath becomes ragged; competing with the harsh gasps that are emanating from the woman under me I'm driving towards a shattering climax. Another rush of wet heat drenches her sheath, desperate fingers clutch at my chest, thighs reflexively clenching under the onslaught of her release. The sight of Marron writhing against me as the waves of pleasure wash over her is utterly breathtaking. 

I slip my hands under and over Marron's shoulders, using my hold to angle deeper. My climax is fast approaching. 

She throws her head back and sinks her nails into the flesh of my upper arms. 

I'm near the edge. 

Her name sounds from me over and over. Our mouths crash and meld in a wild kiss. And with a final rush of heat, I lose myself in the primal satisfaction of spilling myself into her core as I climax harder than I think I _ever _have, and with one more hard thrust, I let go, emptying myself deep inside her.   
  


Not until her violently contracting inner muscles milk me of everything I have, do I lift my head from the crook of her shoulder. An exhausted tremor racks through me as I slip out of her tight body, breathing hard and heavy. 

Finally, spent and exhausted, I collapse on top of her and rest my head against her naked breasts, luxuriating in the musky scent mingling with glistening skin and that faint tang of vanilla I will forever associate with Marron. 

I roll onto my back bringing her with me as she burrows into me, nestling at my side with a tired sigh. I draw her head down to rest against my shoulder, enjoying the feel of her hand as it idly caresses the contours of my chest. The faded scar that will always be over my heart. 

Her soft breath skitters across the base of my throat, warming the skin in its path, and I turn slightly to the side and place a kiss on her forehead, inhaling the scent of her hair. 

"I want to share everything about me with you, Marron," I whisper. "I don't want to hold anything back." 

"Neither do I."   
  


* * *

  
  
He holds me to his side, lying together out here for longer than we should. Wrapped in the glow surrounding us like a blanket. The sky is getting dark, faintly salted by millions of tiny stars scattered out into infinity. Right now, it feels like they're all shining just for us. 

"I've been thinking..." he says towards the sky, pausing to filter his thoughts into words. "I don't think I want to go back." 

I laugh. "Goten, I don't want to go back either, but we can't just leave Toran with your par--..." 

"I mean I don't want to go back to West City. _At all_. I want to stay out here. In the country..." 

Before I can jump to any heartbreaking conclusions about his statement, he explains. 

"I want us to move out here. The three of us. Where Toran can grow up with room to play and fly like a kid while he still can. Somewhere I can teach him to use his ki and transform... not be kept in a city where he'll have to hide and pretend he's like everyone else.... where he'll forget who he is... being someone he's not." 

I can help but wonder if he's still only talking about Toran. 

"I don't want him to have to grow up like that, Marron. He deserves to find places like this and learn about who he is and what he can do." He swivels his head to me. "I want us to be a family out here." 

I barely know what to say. "Goten..." 

"I want to start over. The three of us." He idly brushes the hair away from my eyes with the edge of his fingers; sounding like this has been something on his mind forever. He lowers his voice, speaking so close to my face I can feel his breath on my cheek. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Marron. And... I want to spend it in a place that will be ours." 

I don't even have to think. I've already listened to my heart. And for the second time in my life, I've completely given my heart to him. 

"I do, too." About all the words I can manage right now. 

Immediately, Goten wraps his arms around me, engulfing me with an intense feeling of relief. Holding me impossibly close. If I didn't know better, I'd say I almost feel like there's some unexplainable electricity starting to tickle my bare skin. Like some organic force that's growing in intensity around us... swallowing us whole. 

But I realize what it is. 

And I smile, letting the warm glow of his ki flow through my body. Giving myself to him in every way I possibly can. A part of me feels scared. So open... and vulnerable. But I'm happy. Instead of giving my heart away to the man of my dreams... this time, I've fallen in love with the man of _my life_. 

"There's something important I have to do out here before we head back. Will you come with me?" he whispers in my ear, apparently unaware that he's already rendered me speechless. 

I try to laugh through my tears of happiness, making him smile in return. That genuine Son smile I'm missed so much. 

"Well... I don't think I can make it off this rock by myself, so I guess that means I'm coming with you," I say playfully, kissing his cheek in response to the kisses I already feel on the side of my neck, igniting a tiny spark every time I touch my lips to his skin. "Where are we going?" 

"I'll _show_ you..."   
  


After leaving the cliff, Goten takes me flying with him over the countryside... or what he likes to refer to as 'The Easier Way of Getting Around Out Here'. My fears of this now completely replaced by the sheer awe of his talent to soar like a bird, to be so free out here to do things like this that would be otherwise impossible anywhere else. The way is lit by nothing but the cool, blue light leftover in the sky and the pale starlight barely shining off the landscape far below. From way up here, it's absolutely beautiful. 

The fleeting thought of my son someday flying up this high suddenly makes me very worried. 

We land just on the other side of the mountains, and I follow him through the thick, overgrown grass, still waiting for him to tell me why we've come out this way and for what. It's not near anything in any direction that I was able to see from the sky. 

We walk through the empty fields until we reach an open area unobstructed by any trees or rocks, not too far from the river bank. The grass has grown deep here, enough to where I almost don't notice the sheets of metal and parts scattered around the field until I nearly trip on some of it. 

"What happened out here?" But he doesn't hear me, still walking on through the field as it becomes more and more apparent that he's taken me someplace where something big had happened a long time ago. Some sort of battle maybe. Or... 

Suddenly, he stops. Right around the exact second I figure out were he's taken me. Instantly, I regret opening my mouth. 

Only a few feet in front of where Goten stands lies the burned remnants of a metal frame of something vaguely resembling a truck, or jeep or some sorts, almost completely covered by overgrown weeds and vines. Empty crates and boxes that I couldn't see from above litter the field in the thick grass, seemingly untouched since they day they were abandoned. It takes him a minute before moving again, just standing there and staring at something on the ground as I watch from behind. 

I stay back and hold my breath, giving him room to grasp the onslaught of emotions I can feel from were I stand, and I know now - after hearing the retold story about what Goten did and how Goku later had to wish back the morally innocent people killed - that this is where it must have happened. 

I start to wonder why Goten would even want to come back to this place, and more importantly, why he wanted me to be here with him. But no sooner than the thought circles through my head, he slowly drops to his knees, reaching down for something in the grass near one of the large wooden crates that's open on it's side. Lost in another world. Another time I can't even fathom. 

"_Goten_." 

It's not until a gleam of starlight reflects off the blade do I know what he's found. I remember it, seeing it that day I moved in the apartment, and even from back when Trunks would endlessly carry it around when he was a kid. The blade created by the gods themselves. The story everyone had heard about. 

Goten grips the sword firmly by the hilt, holding it out even to the horizon, every muscle in his arm fighting to control the twitching in his composure. So much respect for the sacred weapon, as if by reflex. His breathing noticeably quickens and he doesn't have to tell me why it's out here. 

Before this moment, I knew very little about what had actually happened. I knew Trunks had died during some kind of battle. I had even later learned that he had died by the blade of a sword. Never did it occur to me that it was possibly the blade of his own sword that killed him. The very sword Goten now holds in his hand. 

But there aren't any tears or sudden regress into hopelessness like I expect. Instead... there's strength. 

He speaks out loud, studying the weather-beaten weapon in his hand. "This belongs to someone else now." He turns back around to face me and sheaths the sword together in one smooth, graceful movement. "Let's go home." 

Again, I don't have to ask.

* * *

"Wow! Can I hold it? _Can I?_" Impatient, wide eyes stare in amazement. Just like the last owner.

"You can do more than hold it. It belongs to _you_ now." 

And in the middle of my parents yard, I hand my son the same sword Trunks was given over twenty years ago, knowing he would have wanted Toran to carry on his legacy by mastering the same weapon like he had done. I know my son has it in him to do so. 

"_Really?_ You mean it?!?" And without another word, Toran slings the strap around his back and clasps it, unsheathing the sword in one, quick yank. He's mesmerized, by either the weapon itself or the fact that he knows full well that no other seven year old on the planet would ever be allowed to touch something so dangerous. 

I glance over at my father, now standing in the doorway of the house. He just stands there, watching the three of us together as a family. Hoping all along that fate was eventually going to have another chance. Who knows, maybe he actually knew. 

"This is the coolest thing _ever!!! _Grandpa! Grandpa! Look! Look what my dad gave me!" Toran shouts, running back towards my dad to show him what I've brought back, not that he couldn't already tell. 

Early memories of Trunks are all I see as I look upon my son. Even down to the same way the sheath nearly touches the ground behind him because the boy wearing it hasn't quite grown into it yet. It still feels like yesterday. But it no longer hurts to remember. 

I stand back up beside Marron. As predicted, tremors ripple through her grip on my hand at first sight of Toran swinging the weather-scarred sword through the air, though with surprising form. I can tell she has some... _reservations_... about our son hurting himself and anyone within a ten mile radius of him. But once she remembers that he'll soon develop the power to tear down mountains and melt steel with his bare hands, she smiles. 

Toran runs back towards us with a grin on his face that makes him look exactly like his fathers, already having learned to sheath the sword behind him without looking. Through him the sword of the gods will be returned to it's former condition... just as through Toran, the sword's previous master will live on. 

We both kneel down in front of him as I rest my hands on his shoulders to keep him in one place. So much young energy that has so much to become. 

"What would you say about living out here? We could live next to Grandma and Grandpa, and Uncle Gohan? What do you think?" 

"_All_ the time? We could _stay _out here!?!" 

All the answer I need. 

"And guess what, dad! Grandpa said he's going to teach me the ka... _kamma_... uh..." 

"I think I might know that one," I laugh, glancing back to my dad now standing in the doorway next to my mom, then back to Marron, as I slide my arm around her to draw her close._ My Marron._

For the first time in years, I'm anxious for the future. For all the possibilities, thrilling and wondrous, that lay ahead. Watching our son as he becomes the man he's destined to be. For the children Marron and I will have together. For the new road ahead of us we have just begun to take. 

The next chapter of the story of us. 

I can't wait. 

I can no longer hide the awakening of emotions from my son. 

"Dad?" Toran whispers, making no secret about how in tune and insightful he can be. "This sword used to belong to my real dad, didn't it?" 

I have so much to tell him. Even more to teach him. I want him to know all about who he is, and about his parents whom he takes so much after. About how it has been an accumulation of all of our lives that has lead us up to now - My life with Trunks… My life with Marron… Tracing the beginning all the way back to the one person who brought us all together... 

"Well, I think it all started with a kid about your age named Gotenks..."   
  


And the story goes on...

* * *

  
My chapter in all of this is now over. 

My part in his life gone, but never forgotten.   
  


I tighten my fingers on King Kai's broad shoulder as he allows me the rare privilege - gift, it's a gift and nothing else - of looking in on my son. 

He's sleeping. Curled around the scabbard of my old sword like it was a much loved teddy-bear. I used to do that... I can't help but remember. He's growing into a fine warrior. I suspect my father will seek him out soon. But I'm not worried that my son will live the life I did. He's stronger than I ever was. 

I tap King Kai's shoulder lightly and his focus changes, showing me Goten. _My Chibi_. 

Actual _time_ has little meaning at the Grand Kai's training grounds. Months, years can pass over a eternity, or be gone in a blink. But for a long time, I've been staring off into the ether knowing that things weren't right with Goten… even after I said good bye. So many times I hoped and prayed that Goten wouldn't follow me here, that he'd be strong enough to go on. 

And he has. 

He's limped along, pulling himself back from the brink. Or more correctly, _she's _pulled him back. Marron… Who knew she'd end up being the strongest of us all? 

I see him now. His sleep deep and untroubled, the lines on his face smoothed out. He holds Marron tightly in his sleep, but not in the desperate clinging way of a drowning, dying man. He holds her with _love._

Thank god for that. I've never been the praying kind, but I almost want to fall to my knees with relief. Emotion clogs my throat and makes my eyes burn. He's where he's supposed to be; with he person he's supposed to be with now. I no longer have to fear that one day I'll look up from my training to see that our bond has finally destroyed him. That it's taken from him everything that I loved about him. Everything that was fine and good in him. 

Goten belongs to the world. He belongs to her. 

I pull my hand back from King Kai's shoulder, severing the connection that allows me a peek into a world that I am no longer a part of. I nod my thanks as he moves away toward the Grand Kai's palace. 

I can be at peace now. I can finally rest knowing that Goten is finally going to be okay. And that one day, a very long time from now, when I look up and see Goten again… 

We'll have forever. And that time will be ours. 

Until then... I can wait.   
  


FIN 

* * *

**Well, that's it...**   
  
**The last and final chapter of my year-and-a-half-long epic, _The Story of You and Me_.**   
  
**I really can't express how thankful I am to have had such a great bunch of readers at my side for all of this, and if it wasn't for you guys, I can assure you that this would have never been finished! I've made so many new friends along the way and even got a few people writing their own fics now! You guys are the best and thanks a million for reading my story!**   
  
**And I can't complete this last martini shot without giving a world of thanks and gratitude to the one person who's been the heart and soul behind this fic since the very beginning... the one person who has dug me out of countless holes and given so much life and meaning to the characters I've been writing about for so long. I can honestly say that if it weren't for her, you would be reading a very different fic, and in no way would my original idea have ever found it's way off the ground. To have the _very_ author who inspired me to write about these characters in the first place and to take so many chances... Having Kinomi be at my side this whole time has been... _an honor!_ And I consider myself very lucky to having had the chance to work with her!**   
  
**_You're the best, K!_**   
  
**** ****

**My Yahoo Group,_ djFusion Fiction_, will still be around even though _TSoYaM_ is finally completed. As it turns out, _cough_ I've still got some fic debts to pay, so despite my attempt to retire, I'm going to be around for a little while longer! lol I do actually have some more one-shots up my sleeve, and a bunch of fanart that I can finally start cracking on (some innocent, some downright dirty and graphic _wink wink_) so there_ is_ actually more to come.**   
****  
**_Still._**   
  
**I hope you've enjoyed my epic - whether you've just started reading it or have been with me from the start - and thanks a million for showing so much support and dedication that has kept this DBZ author going! I've got such useful feedback and encouraging reviews over the past seventeen months... I really can't thank you all enough! _The Story of You and Me_ has been on my mind for a very long time, and I've given more of myself to this story than I care to admit right now. I really fell in love with the idea, and I'm so happy I was able to write it out and share it with such a supportive group of fans! I value every single review and comment I've received (even the flames! lol), and you've made writing this story a wonderful experience that I'll never forget! ,**   
  
**Thanks for reading my work and I hope to hear from you soon (especially since you've made it this far!) You guys are the best!******


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